BARBARA 
LADD 


Charles  GD  Roberts 


BARBARA   LADD 


Leaning  over  the  edge  of  the  porch  she  dropped 
the  bundle  soundlessly  into  a  bed  of 


marigolds. 


(Page  13) 


BARBARA  LADD 


BY 

CHARLES  G.  D.  ROBERTS 


AUTHOR  OF 
THE  KINDRED  OF  THE  WILD,  THE  HEART  OF  THE 
ANCIENT     WOOD.     A     SISTER     TO      EVANGELINE. 

POEMS,  ETC. 


ILLUSTRATED  BY 

FRANK  VERBEGK 


NEW    YORK 

GROSSET    &   DUNLAP 

PUBLISHERS 


Copyright,  1902, 

BY  L.  C.  PAGE  &  COMPANY^ 

(Incorporated). 

All  Rights  Reserved. 


',1  .published.  O-ctp^e;,   1902. 


Eighth    Impression,    April,  1908. 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 


PAGE 

"  Leaning  over  the  edge  of  the  porch  she 
dropped  the  bundle  soundlessly  into  a 
bed  of  marigolds  "  {See  page  ij)  .         Frontispiece 

" «  What  a  nice-looking  boy  you  are  ! '  she  said  "       87 

"  «  O     Mehitable  -  demoralised  -by     Barbara!' 

vowed  Doctor  John" 196 

"  He  sank  off  again,  falling  back  into  Bar- 
bara's  SUPPORTING   ARMS"    .  370 


250711 


BARBARA    LADD 


CHAPTER   L 

She  knew  very  well  that  she  should  have  started 
earlier ;  but  if  there  was  one  thing  that  could  daunt 
her  wayward  and  daring  little  spirit,  it  was  the  dark. 
Now,  as  she  stood,  wide-eyed  and  breathless  with 
suspense,  beside"  her  open  window,  the  face  of  the 
dark  began  to  change.  A  gray  pallor  came  over  it, 
and  on  a  sudden  she  was  aware  of  a  black  horizon 
line,  ghostly,  lonely  beyond  words,  far  to  the  east- 
ward over  the  yet  invisible  tree-tops.  With  this 
pallor  came  a  chill  which  Barbara  felt  on  her  little, 
trembling  hands,  on  her  eyes,  and  in  her  heart :  as 
if  the  night,  in  going,  had  laid  aside  its  benignity 
and  touched  the  world  in  farewell  with  a  cold  hand 
of  warning  and  menace.  Then,  here  and  there  a  leaf 
stood  out,  palely  distinct,  upon  the  thick  frondage 
of  the  apple-tree  whose  nearest  branches  crowded 
the  roof  of  the  porch  below  her  window.  There 
was  a  faint  chirping  from  the  heart  of  the  syringa 

ii 


J2  ...  <■       ;  /.Barbara  Ladd 


thicket;  and  Barbara's  ears  were  so  attentive  that 
she  caught  the  drowsy,  awakening  flutter  of  small 
wings  down  below  in  the  dewy  gloom.  With  the 
sound  came  a  cool  and  delicate  pungency  from  the 
wet  currant  bushes,  puffed  upward  to  her  as  if  the 
garden  world  beneath  the  leaves  had  drawn  a  long 
breath  in  getting  ready  to  awake.  This  tonic  scent, 
which  nostrils  less  keen  than  Barbara's  would 
scarcely  have  discerned,  came  to  the  child  as  a  signal 
for  action.  Peculiarly  sensitive  to  the  message  and 
influence  of  odours,  she  felt  this  sudden  fragrance 
in  her  nerves  as  a  summons,  a  promise,  and  a  chal- 
lenge, all  in  one.  Noiselessly  she  pushed  the  two 
diamond-paned  leaves  of  her  window  open  to  their 
widest.  How  the  grayness  was  spreading !  A  pang 
of  apprehension  seized  her,  lest  she  had  delayed  too 
long.  She  turned  impulsively,  and  stepped  into  the 
darkness  of  her  room. 

In  a  moment  her  slim  little  figure  reappeared  at 
the  window,  this  time  heavily  encumbered.  In  one 
hand  was  a  round,  soft  bundle,  in  the  other  a  square 
wicker  basket  with  a  white  cloth  tied  over  the  top. 
The  white  cloth  glimmered  conspicuously,  but  the 
light  was  not  yet  strong  enough  to  reveal  the  colour 
of  the  bundle.  Setting  both  the  burdens  out  upon  the 
roof  of  the  porch,  she  turned,  glanced  in  at  the  win- 
dow, and  said,  softly : 

"Good-bye,  little  room!     I  haven't  been  happy 


Barbara  Ladd  13 


with  you.  But  I  hope  you  won't  be  lonely  when  I'm 
gone ! " 

Leaning  over  the  edge  of  the  porch,  she  dropped 
the  bundle  soundlessly  into  a  bed  of  marigolds.  The 
basket,  on  the  other  hand,  she  took  up  with  care. 
Thrusting  her  left  arm  through  the  handle,  she 
swung  herself  nimbly  into  the  apple-tree,  and  thence 
to  the  ground;  while  the  basket  tipped  and  slewed 
as  if  it  were  alive. 

"  Be  still,  my  babies!  "  she  whispered;  and  then, 
picking  up  the  bundle  from  the  crushed  marigolds, 
and  never  turning  her  head  to  look  up  at  the  stately 
old  house  which  she  was  leaving,  she  fled  down  the 
walk  between  the  currant  and  gooseberry  bushes, 
the  thyme,  the  sage,  and  summer  savoury  beds,  — 
through  a  narrow  wicket  gate  half -hidden  in  lark- 
spur and  honeysuckle,  —  along  the  foot-path  through 
the  rank  and  dripping  burdocks  back  of  the  barn, 
where  she  felt  a  little  qualm  of  homesickness  at  the 
sound  of  her  dear  horses  breathing  deeply  and  con- 
tentedly in  the  stalls,  —  and  thence,  letting  down  one 
of  the  bars  and  crawling  through  with  her  burdens, 
out  into  the  graying,  hillocky  open  of  the  cow- 
pasture. 

By  this  time  a  cool  and  luminous  wave  of  pink, 
changing  to  pale  saffron  at  its  northeastern  edges, 
had  crept  up  over  the  far-off  hilltops.  Faint  tinges 
of  colour,  of  a  strange  and  unusual  transparency, 


14  Barbara  Ladd 

began  to  reveal  themselves  all  over  the  expanse  of 
pasture.  As  the  miracle  of  dawn  thus  overtook  her, 
a  sense  of  unreality  came  upon  Barbara's  soul.  She 
felt  as  if  this  were  not  she,  this  little  girl  so  adven- 
turously running  away  —  but  rather  some  impos- 
sible child  in  a  story-book,  who  had  so  engaged  her 
sympathies  for  the  moment  that  she  could  not  be  sure 
which  was  make-believe  and  which  herself.  With 
a  chill  of  lonesome  dread  she  slipped  a  hand  under 
the  cloth  and  into  the  basket.  The  touch  of  warm, 
live,  cuddling  fur  reassured  her,  and  brought  her 
back  to  her  own  identity.  But  stranger  and  stranger 
grew  the  mystical  transparency,  only  made  the  more 
startling  by  a  fleece  of  vapour  here  and  there  curling 
up  from  between  the  hillocks.  Stumps,  weed-tops, 
patches  of  juniper,  tufts  of  blueberry  bush,  wisps  of 
coarse  grass  left  uncropped,  seemed  to  detach  them- 
selves, lift,  and  float  in  the  solvent  clarity  of  that 
new-born  air,  that  new-born  light.  Surely,  this  was 
not  her  old,  familiar  world!  Barbara  stood  still, 
her  great  eyes  dilating,  her  lips  parted  in  a  kind  of 
ecstasy,  as  sense  and  spirit  alike  drank  in  the  marvel 
of  the  dawn.  It  seemed  to  her  as  if  she  discovered,  in 
that  moment,  that  the  world  was  made  anew  with 
every  morning,  —  and  with  the  discovery  she  became 
aware,  dimly  but  securely,  that  she  was  herself  a 
part  of  the  imperishable,  ever-renewing  life. 

She  was  brought  back  to  more  instant  considera- 


Barbara  Ladd  15 


tions  by  the  sudden  appearance  of  a  red-and-white 
cow,  which  got  up  with  a  great,  windy,  grunting 
breath,  and  came  toward  her  out  of  a  misty  hollow. 
With  all  the  cows  of  the  herd  Barbara  was  in  high 
favour,  but  just  now  the  sight  alarmed  her. 

"  Gracious !  "  she  exclaimed  to  herself,  "  Abby  will 
be  out  to  milk  in  another  minute !  "  —  and  she  broke 
into  a  run  at  the  best  speed  that  her  burdens  would 
permit,  making  for  the  maple  woods  which  lay  to 
the  north  of  the  pasture.  The  cow  looked  and  mooed 
after  her  wistfully,  wondering  at  her  flight,  and 
aching  for  the  relief  of  the  milker's  hand.  But 
Barbara  paid  no  heed  to  her,  nor  to  the  others  of 
the  herd,  who  now  came  into  view  from  corners  of 
the  pasture  as  the  enchanted  light  grew  and  spread. 
She  darted  on,  vanishing  in  the  hollows,  flitting 
over  the  hillocks,  fleetly  threading  the  crooked  and 
slender  path,  —  a  wisp-like,  dark  little  figure.  Her 
bundle,  now  seen  to  be  tied  up  in  a  silk  shawl  of 
flamelike  scarlet,  and  the  snow-white  covering  of 
her  basket,  flickered  across  the  mystical  transparency 
of  the  landscape  like  bubbles  of  intense  light  blown 
far  in  advance  of  the  morning. 

Not  till  she  came  to  the  other  side  of  the  pasture 
and  plunged  into  the  obscurity  of  the  woods  did 
Barbara  check  her  speed.  Here  the  dawn  was  but 
beginning  to  penetrate,  thrusting  thin  shafts  of  pink- 
amber  light  here  and  there  through  the  leafage,  and 


1 6  Barbara  Ladd 


touching  the  eastward  sides  of  trunk  and  branch  with 
elusive  glories.  Breathing  quickly,  Barbara  set  down 
the  bundle  and  the  precious  basket ;  but  she  snatched 
them  up  again  as  she  caught  a  sound  of  panting  and 
running  behind  her.  On  the  instant,  however,  the 
alarm  faded  from  her  face. 

"  Down,  Keep !  "  she  commanded,  sharply,  as  the 
gaunt  gray  form  of  a  mastiff  leaped  upon  her,  almost 
carrying  her  off  her  feet.  Fawning,  and  giving  little 
yelps  of  joy,  the  huge  animal  crouched  before  her, 
pounding  the  sward  with  ecstatic  tail,  and  implored 
to  lick  her  hands.  She  threw  both  arms  about  the 
dog's  head,  murmuring  to  him,  poignantly  impet- 
uous, her  voice  tearful  with  self-reproach : 

"  Was  his  best  friend  going  away,  without  ever 
saying  good-bye  to  him?  Well,  she  was  bad,  she 
was  very,  very  bad!  "  And  she  wiped  away  several 
large,  surreptitious  tears  upon  the  furry  folds  of 
his  neck.  Then  she  sprang  up  and  renewed  her 
journey  resolutely;  while  the  mastiff,  bounding  in 
front  of  her,  showed  his  plain  conviction  that  some 
fine,  audacious  adventure  was  afoot,  and  that  it 
would  be  his  great  luck  to  have  a  part  in  it. 

For  more  than  a  mile  Barbara  followed  the  wood- 
path,  the  fresh,  wet  gloom  lightening  about  her  as 
she  went.  Where  the  maples  thinned  away,  and  the 
slenderer  ash  and  birch  took  their  place,  she  got 
glimpses   of   a   pale   sky   overhead,    dappled   with 


Barbara  Ladd  17 


streamers  of  a  fiery  violet.  Here  and  there  a  drip- 
ping leaf  had  caught  the  colours  from  above  and 
flashed  elusive  jewels  upon  her  vision.  Here  and 
there  the  dewy  thickets  of  witch-hazel  and  viburnum 
crowded  so  close  about  the  path  that  her  skirts  and 
shoulders  were  drenched  with  their  scented  largess. 
Here  and  there  in  her  path  rose  suddenly  a  cluster 
of  night-born  toadstools  —  squat,  yellow,  and  fat- 
fleshed,  or  tall,  shadowy-hooded,  and  whitely  venom- 
ous —  over  which  she  stepped  with  wary  aversion. 
And  once,  eager  as  was  her  haste,  she  stopped  to 
pick  a  great,  lucent,  yellow  orchid,  which  seemed 
to  beam  like  a  sacred  lamp  in  its  dark  green  shrine 
beneath  the  alders. 

At  length  the  path  dipped  sharply  between  rocks 
overgrown  with  poison  ivy.  Then  the  trees  thinned 
away  before  her,  and  the  day  grew  at  once  full  of 
light ;  and  the  mirror-surface  of  a  little  lake,  shining 
with  palest  crocus-tint  and  violet  and  silvery  rose,  ob- 
scured with  patches  of  dissolving  mist,  flashed  upon 
her  eyes.  She  ran  down  to  the  very  edge,  where  the 
water  seemed  to  breathe  among  its  fringing  pebbles, 
and  there  set  down  the  bundle  and  the  basket ;  while 
the  dog,  yelping  joyously,  bounded  and  splashed  in 
the  shallows. 

When,  however,  Barbara  stepped  up  the  bank  to 
a  thicket  of  Indian  willow,  and  proceeded,  by  dint 
of  carefully  calculated  lifting  and  pulling,  to  drag 


1 8  Barbara  Ladd 

forth  from  its  hiding-place  a  ruddy  canoe  of  birch- 
bark,  the  dog's  spirits  and  his  flaunting  tail  fell 
together.  If  Barbara's  venture  was  to  be  in  the 
canoe,  he  knew  he  should  have  no  part  in  it ;  and  his 
big,  doggish  heart  was  dejected.  With  his  tongue 
hanging  from  his  jaws,  he  sat  up  on  his  brindled 
haunches  and  looked  on,  while  slowly  and  laboriously 
Barbara  worked  the  frail  craft  down  to  the  water. 
When  it  was  afloat,  and  the  resined  prow  pulled 
up  into  a  tuft  of  weeds  to  keep  it  from  drifting 
away,  Barbara  fetched  two  paddles  from  the  same 
hiding-place.  In  the  bow  of  the  canoe  she  stowed 
her  bundle  and  her  basket.  In  the  stern  she  arranged 
a  pile  of  ferns  as  a  cushion  for  her  knees.  Once  more 
she  flung  her  arms  around  Keep's  massive  neck, 
kissed  his  silky  ears,  wept  violently  for  the  smallest 
fraction  of  a  minute;  and  then,  stepping  into  the 
canoe  with  the  light  precision  of  one  skilled  with  the 
birch-bark,  she  pushed  off,  and  with  quick,  vigorous 
strokes  headed  straight  across  the  lake.  The  dog 
ran  uneasily  up  and  down  the  water's  edge,  whining 
and  fretting  after  her.  When  she  was  a  little  way 
out  he  made  a  sudden  resolution,  plunged  into  the 
water,  and  swam  eagerly  after  the  fugitive.  But 
Barbara  heard  the  splash,  and  understood.  She 
realised  that  he  would  surely  upset  the  canoe  in 
trying  to  get  into  it,  and  this  was  the  time  when  she 


Barbara  Ladd  19 


must  seem  hard,  however  her  heart  was  melting. 
She  looked  back  over  her  shoulder. 

"  Go  home,  Keep !    Go  home !  "  she  commanded. 

The  dog  turned  obediently  and  made  for  shore. 
And  Barbara,  her  lips  set  and  the  big  tears  rolling 
down  her  cheeks,  continued  her  journey  out  across 
the  lake. 


CHAPTER   II. 

It  was  now  clear  day.  The  ample  spaces  of  blue 
between  the  thin  clouds  overhead  grew  pure,  as  if 
new  bathed,  The  sun  was  not  yet  visible  over  the 
woods,  but  sent  level  shafts  of  radiance  through  the 
sparser  leafage.  Barbara's  face  was  westward,  and 
her  prow,  as  the  nervous  cunning  of  her  paddle  urged 
it  forward,  threw  off  the  water  on  either  side  in  long, 
polished,  fluted  furrows,  dazzlingly  bright  at  the 
top  of  the  curve  and  steel-dark  in  the  depression. 
Child  as  she  was,  and  of  a  fairy  slightness,  Barbara's 
wrists  were  strong  and  she  was  master  of  her  paddle. 
Her  tears  presently  dried  themselves  as  she  noted 
with  exultation,  by  the  growing  depth  and  abrupt- 
ness of  these  furrows  from  her  prow,  that  she  was 
making  a  speed  that  did  credit  to  her  canoe-craft. 
In  a  few  minutes  her  parting  pangs  were  all  for- 
gotten, and  she  was  absorbed  in  racing,  as  it  were, 
against  herself.  She  knelt  low,  working  her  shoul- 
ders freely  like  a  squaw,  and  bent  every  energy  to 
making  the  passage  of  the  open  before  a  wind  out 
of  the  morning  should  awake  to  hinder  her  progress. 

A  low,  green  point,  deep-plumed  with  sedge,  thrust 

M 


Barbara  Ladd  21 


out  from  the  nearing  shore  to  meet  her.  At  its  tip, 
motionless,  and  eloquent  of  ancient  mystery,  poised 
the  dream-like  shape  of  a  blue  heron.  Nearer  and 
nearer  slipped  the  canoe,  till  Barbara  could  discern 
the  round,  unwinking  jewel  of  the  great  bird's  eye, 
watching  her  inscrutably.  Then,  with  leisurely 
spread  of  spacious  wings,  it  rose  and  flapped  away, 
to  renew  its  not  wholly  disinterested  contemplations 
in  a  further  reed-bed. 

Behind  the  point  of  sedges  Barbara  swept  the 
canoe  on  a  fine  curve,  and  into  the  channel  of  a  little 
river,  the  quiet  outlet  of  the  lake.  Alders,  osiers,  and 
thick-starred  draperies  of  clematis  came  down  over 
either  bank.  The  stream  was  not  twenty  paces  wide, 
and  its  deep  current  was  so  gentle  that  the  long 
weeds  on  the  bottom  were  hardly  under  compulsion 
to  show  which  way  it  flowed. 

The  ancient  wood  at  this  place  gave  back  several 
hundred  yards  from  the  lake,  save  for  scattered  out- 
posts and  thickets.  Rounding  the  first  curve  of  the 
stream,  —  which,  indeed,  seemed  all  curves  in  its 
reluctance  to  forsake  the  parent  water,  —  the  canoe 
ran  into  a  flock  of  gray-and-white  geese  dabbling 
along  the  weedy  margin.  The  birds  were  not 
alarmed,  but  they  lifted  their  heads  and  clamoured 
a  sonorous  warning;  and  straightway  from  behind 
the  screen  of  leafage  came  a  quacking  of  ducks, 
a  cackling  of  hens,  and  the  excited  barking  of  a 


22  Barbara  Ladd 


puppy.  Then  a  cock  crowed  shrilly.  The  stream 
rounded  to  a  wider  stretch,  and  its  western  bank, 
flooded  with  sunshine,  showed  a  grassy  clearing  of 
perhaps  two  acres  in  extent,  at  the  back  of  which, 
close  against  the  primeval  trees,  huddled  a  low,  gray 
cabin,  with  wide  eaves  and  a  red  door.  A  hop-vine 
covered  one  end  of  the  cabin  and  sprawled  over  the 
roof.  Along  the  base  ran  a  "  banking  "  about  two 
feet  high,  of  rough  boards  with  the  bark  on,  sup- 
ported by  stakes  and  filled  in  with  earth  —  a  pro- 
tection to  the  cellar  against  winter  frosts.  Leaned 
up  to  the  sun,  along  the  banking,  stood  wooden 
tubs  and  an  iron  pot;  and  on  a  bench  beside  the 
door  another  tub.  In  front  of  the  door  was  a  space 
of  chips,  littered  with  axe,  buck-saw,  feed-troughs, 
parts  of  a  broken  hand-sled,  a  large  wicker  basket 
with  the  bottom  gone,  and  indeterminate  waifs  and 
strays  of  human  use.  From  this  space  of  debris  a 
foot-path  ran  down  through  short  grass  to  the  water- 
side, where  a  clumsy  punt  was  hauled  up.  The  place 
was  alive  with  ducks  and  chickens;  and  as  Barbara 
came  in  view  a  stately  turkey-cock  swelled,  strutted, 
and  gobbled  defiance  to  her  intrusion. 

Sitting  on  the  door-step  in  the  sun  was  a  sturdy 
old  woman  in  greenish  homespun  petticoat  and 
bodice,  with  a  dull  red  kerchief  crossed  upon  her 
shoulders  and  a  cap  of  greenish-yellow  linen  on  her 
head,  —  the  soft  dye  of  the  "  yaller-weed  **  juice. 


Barbara  Ladd  23 


She  was  busy  cutting  coloured  rags  into  strips  for 
mat-hooking.  At  her  side  sat  a  small  yellow  puppy, 
with  head  cocked  and  one  ear  alertly  lifted,  curious 
but  doubtful  as  to  the  visitor. 

Barbara  turned  her  birchen  prow  to  the  landing- 
place,  and  ran  it  gently  ashore  in  the  soft  mud  beside 
the  punt.  At  the  same  moment  Mrs.  Deborah  Blue 
—  known  to  Barbara  and  to  all  the  village  of  Second 
Westings  as  "  old  Debby  "  —  dropped  her  knitting 
on  the  stoop,  snatched  up  a  stout  stick  that  leaned 
against  the  door-post,  and  hobbled  with  a  heavy 
briskness  down  the  path  to  meet  the  visitor.  The 
yellow  pup  frisked  interestedly  at  her  heels. 

Barbara  had  indeed  run  her  prow  ashore,  but  that 
was  for  the  sake  of  stability  merely.  She  was  in 
haste,  and  had  no  idea  of  stopping  now  to  indulge 
her  inclination  for  a  gossip  with  old  Debby.  She 
rested  in  silence,  one  brown  hand  on  the  gunwale  of 
the  punt,  her  full,  young,  wilful  lips  very  scarlet, 
her  gray-green  eyes  asparkle  with  mystery  and  ex- 
citement, as  the  old  woman  hobbled  down  to  greet 
her. 

"  Ain't  ye  comin'  in  to  set  awhile,  an*  eat  a 
cooky,  Miss  Barby?"  inquired  Mrs.  Blue,  wonder- 
ing at  the  child's  inscrutable  look.  The  old  dame's 
face  was  red  and  harsh  and  strongly  lined.  Her  chin 
was  square  and  thrust  forward  aggressively,  with 
a  gray-bristled  wart  at  one  side  of  its  obtrusive 


24  Barbara  Ladd 


vigour.  A  lean  and  iron-gray  wisp  of  hair,  escaped 
from  under  her  hat,  straggled  down  upon  her  red 
neck.  But  her  shrewd,  hard,  pale-blue,  dauntless  old 
eyes  beamed  upon  the  child  with  unfeigned  welcome. 
She  spoke  a  little  wheezingly,  being  out  of  breath 
from  haste ;  and  Barbara  was  the  only  soul  in  all  the 
township  of  Second  Westings  for  whom  old  Debby 
would  condescend  to  hasten. 

"  No,  Debby  dear,  I  can't  stop  one  minute.  I'm 
not  coming  ashore.  I'm  running  away  from  Aunt 
Hitty,  and  I'm  going  down  the  river  to  Uncle  Bob. 
I  just  stopped  to  say  good-bye  to  you,  you  old  dear, 
and  to  ask  you  to  take  this  letter  for  me  to  Aunt 
Hitty.  I  didn't  dare  to  leave  it  in  my  room,  for  fear 
she'd  find  it  and  know  where  I'd  gone,  and  send  after 
me  before  I'd  got  a  good  start.  I  don't  like  Aunt 
Hitty,  you  know,  Debby,  but  she's  been  good  to  me 
in  her  way,  and  I  don't  want  her  to  be  worrying!  " 
She  held  out  a  folded  paper  for  the  old  dame  to 
take;  but  she  held  it  tentatively,  as  if  she  did  not 
want  to  surrender  it  at  once. 

Knowing  Barbara  as  no  one  else  in  the  town- 
ship of  Second  Westings  knew  her,  old  Debby  be- 
trayed neither  surprise  nor  disapproval.  She  nodded 
several  times,  as  if  running  away  were  the  most 
reasonable,  and  indeed  the  most  ordinary,  thing  in 
the  world  for  a  little  girl  of  fourteen  years  to  do 
when  she  found  aunts  and  environments  uncon- 


Barbara   Ladd  25 


genial.  Old  Debby's  smile,  at  this  moment,  had  just 
the  right  degree  of  sympathy.  Had  ever  so  little 
of  amusement  glimmered  through  its  weather-beaten 
creases,  she  knew  that  the  sensitive  and  wilful  girl 
before  her  would  have  been  off  in  a  second  with  her 
venture  all  unexplained. 

"  I'd  take  it  fer  ye,  my  sweeting,  ef  I'd  got  to 
crawl  on  my  knees  all  the  way  'round  the  lake,"  the 
old  dame  answered  promptly ;  but  at  the  same  time, 
scheming  to  prolong  the  interview,  and  knowing  that 
if  once  Barbara  started  off  again  there  would  be  no 
such  thing  as  luring  her  back,  she  kept  both  hands 
clasped  on  top  of  her  stick  and  made  no  move  to 
accept  the  missive. 

"  Ain't  ye  sroin'  to  read  it  to  me?  "  she  went  on, 
coaxingly.  "  I'd  give  a  sight  to  hear  what  ye're 
say  in'  to  yer  Aunt  Hitty." 

Now  this  was  just  what  Barbara  wanted,  in  spite 
of  her  haste.  She  wanted  to  hear  how  her  letter 
would  sound.  She  wanted  to  try  it  on  old  Debby, 
in  whom  she  felt  sure  of  a  eulogistic  critic.  Without 
a  word  she  untied  the  yellow  ribbon,  opened  the 
packet,  and  began  to  read,  with  a  weighty  impres- 
siveness  in  her  childish  voice : 

"  My  dear  Aunt  Hitty  :  —  This  is  to  say  fare- 
well for  ever,  for  I  have  run  away.  I  do  not  think  it 
would  be  good  for  me  to  live  with  you  any  longer, 


26  Barbara   Ladd 


so  I  am  going  to  Uncle  Bob.  He  loves  me,  and  does 
not  think  I  am  bad.  And  I  think  he  needs  me,  too, 
because  I  understand  him.  I  know  I  have  often  been 
bad,  and  have  made  you  unhappy  very  often,  Aunt 
Hitty.  But  I  don't  think  you  ever  understand  me 
■ —  and  I  don't  understand  you  —  and  so  we  cannot 
be  happy  together.  But  don't  be  worried  about  me, 
for  I  will  be  all  right.  And  I  thank  you  for  all  the 
trouble  you  have  taken  about  me.  I  don't  want  any 
of  my  old  clothes  except  what  I  have  brought  with 
me,  so  please  give  them  to  Mercy  Chapman,  because 
she  is  poor  and  just  about  my  size,  and  always  kind 
to  animals,  and  I  like  her.  I  have  taken  your  nice 
basket  you  got  from  the  squaw  last  Saturday,  to 
carry  my  kittens  in;  but  I  know  you  won't  mind, 
because  you  offered  to  give  it  to  me  when  I  did  not 
know  I  was  going  to  need  it.  I  have  taken  the  canoe, 
too,  but  I  want  to  pay  for  it,  of  course,  Aunt  Hitty. 
Please  keep  enough  to  get  a  new  one,  and  paddles, 
out  of  the  money  you  are  taking  care  of  for  me, 
and  send  the  rest  right  away  to  Uncle  Bob,  because 
I'll  need  some  new  frocks  when  I  get  to  the  city, 
and  I  don't  know  whether  Uncle  Bob  has  any  money 
or  not.  Good-bye,  Aunt  Hitty,  and  I  am  so  sorry 
that  we  could  not  understand  each  other. 
"  Your  niece, 

"  Barbara  Ladd." 


Barbara  Ladd  27 


She  looked  up,  proud,  but  a  little  anxious,  and 
eager  for  commendation.  Old  Debby  rose  to  the 
circumstances. 

"  Law,  how  you  kin  write,  Miss  Barby,"  she  said, 
with  a  nod  and  chuckle.  "  The  parson  nor  Doctor 
Jim  couldn't  'a'  done  no  better.  I  reckon  Aunt 
Hitty'll  understand  ye  now,  a  sight  better'n  she's 
given  to  understand  folks  as  don't  jest  think  as  she 
do.    Give  me  the  letter !  " 

Barbara's  face  flashed  radiantly.  With  a  sudden 
impulse  she  sprang  up,  skipped  ashore,  thrust  the 
letter  into  the  old  woman's  hand,  and  cried  in  a  high 
key: 

"  Oh,  I'm  so  hungry,  Debby !  I  can't  stop  a  min- 
ute, but  do  give  me  some  breakfast,  there's  a  dear. 
I  was  too  excited  to  eat  before  I  left.  And  do  give 
my  kittens  a  drop  of  milk.  I've  got  nothing  but  cold 
meat  for  them  to  eat  on  the  journey,  poor  babies !  " 

Without  waiting  for  a  reply,  she  skipped  back  to 
the  canoe,  grabbed  up  the  covered  basket,  and  flew 
up  the  path  to  the  cottage;  while  the  old  woman 
limped  after  her  with  astonishing  speed,  chuckling 
and  wheezing  out  a  disjointed  invitation.  She  fol- 
lowed Barbara  into  the  cabin,  shutting  the  door  to 
keep  out  the  puppy,  who  whined  in  an  injured  voice 
upon  the  stoop.  Then,  thinking  of  the  kittens  first, 
—  and  thereby  showing  her  deep  knowledge  of  the 
kittens'  mistress,  —  she  set  down  a  bowl  of  milk  in 


28  Barbara  Ladd 


the  middle  of  the  floor ;  and  Barbara,  uncovering  the 
basket,  lovingly  lifted  out  three  plump,  moon-faced 
little  cats,  a  yellow-and-white,  a  black-and-white,  and 
a  gray-and-white.  While  the  three,  with  happy  tails 
erect,  lapped  at  the  milk,  Barbara  made  haste  to 
devour  thick  slices  of  brown  bread  and  butter,  spread 
to  a  luscious  depth  with  moist,  sweet-scented  maple 
sugar.  She  had  no  time  to  talk.  She  sat  on  the  edge 
of  the  big  four-post  bed,  swinging  her  slim  legs,  and 
kicking  her  heels  against  the  dingy,  gay  patchwork 
quilt  whose  ample  folds  hung  to  the  floor.  The 
hidden  space  under  the  bed  was  a  place  of  piquant 
mystery  to  Barbara,  containing,  as  it  did,  boxes  on 
boxes  of  many-coloured  rags,  out  of  which,  earlier  in 
the  season,  old  Debby  would  bring  forth  precious 
goose-eggs,  duck-eggs,  turkey-eggs,  and  the  specially 
prized  eggs  of  certain  pet  and  prolific  hens,  gathered 
against  the  time  of  setting.  While  Barbara  broke 
her  fast,  old  Debby  refrained  from  questions,  having 
shrewdly  grasped  the  whole  situation.  She  knew 
that  Mr.  Robert  Glenowen,  Barbara's  uncle,  had 
lately  come  north  on  an  errand  which  nobody  seemed 
to  understand,  and  had  taken  a  house  at  Stratford. 
Of  a  nomadic  spirit  in  her  younger  days,  Debby  had 
moved  much  here  and  there  throughout  her  native 
Connecticut,  and  over  the  bordering  counties  of  New 
York  and  Massachusetts;  and  she  had  not  only  a 
rough  idea  of  the  distance  from  Second  Westings 


Barbara  Ladd  29 


to  Stratford,  but  a  very  vivid  realisation  of  the  perils 
of  the  journey  which  Barbara,  in  her  innocence,  had 
so  confidently  undertaken.  Till  she  saw  that  the 
appetites  of  Barbara  and  the  kittens  were  nearing 
satisfaction,  she  talked  with  a  sort  of  casual  enthu- 
siasm of  her  luck  with  the  chickens,  the  goslings,  the 
young  turkeys,  and  depicted  the  prowess  of  an  old 
speckled  hen  which  had  engaged  and  defeated  a 
marauding  hawk.  Then,  when  at  last  Barbara 
sprang  up,  bundled  the  satiated  kittens  into  the  bas- 
ket, and  turned  to  her  for  a  fond  and  final  good-bye, 
the  crafty  old  dame  broke  into  passionate  farewells. 
She  kissed  the  child,  and  even  wept  over  her,  till 
Barbara's  self-centred  exaltation  was  very  near 
collapse. 

"  You  love  me,  don't  you,  Debby  dear?  "  she  ex- 
claimed, with  a  wistfulness  in  her  voice,  searching 
the  old  woman's  face  with  her  great,  eager,  strangely 
alien  eyes.  Barbara  was  one  of  those  who  colour  the 
moods  of  others  by  their  own,  and  who  are  therefore 
apt  to  be  at  fault  in  their  interpretation  of  another's 
motives.  This  gave  her,  even  in  childhood,  a 
strangeness,  an  aloneness  of  personality,  which  she, 
as  well  as  those  who  loved  her,  could  seldom  break 
down.  It  was  with  a  kind  of  heart-break  that  she 
now  and  again,  for  an  instant,  became  dimly  aware 
of  this  alien  fibre  in  her  temperament.  It  made  her 
both  misunderstanding  and  misunderstood. 


3<D  Barbara  Ladd 

"  I  can  trust  you,  can't  I?  "  she  went  on,  leaning 
childishly  for  a  moment  upon  the  old  woman's  com- 
fortable breast. 

"  Trust  old  Debby,  my  sweeting!  "  cried  the  old 
dame,  in  tones  which  carried  conviction.  "  Ye  hain't 
got  no  lovinger  nor  faithfuller  friend  alive  than  me. 
Don't  ye  never  forgit  that,  Miss  Barby." 

For  answer  Barbara  clutched  her  fiercely  around 
the  neck,  sobbed  and  clung  to  her  for  a  moment, 
cried  extravagantly,  "  Yes,  you  are  the  best  friend 
I've  got  in  all  the  world !  "  then  gathered  up  her 
basket  of  kittens  and  fled  wildly  down  the  path  to 
the  canoe.  Impetuously  she  pushed  off,  the  world  a 
golden  blur  before  her  eyes ;  and  without  once  look- 
ing back,  she  disappeared  around  the  next  winding  of 
the  stream.  Old  Debby  stood  for  some  minutes  gaz- 
ing after  this  meteor-like  —  and  very  Barbara-like  — 
exit.  There  was  amusement  now,  unhindered,  on 
her  hard  old  face,  but  a  kind  of  fierce  devotion 
withal.  When  the  stern  of  the  canoe  had  vanished 
behind  the  leafage,  she  muttered  to  herself :  "  Well ! 
Well !  Well !  was  ever  sech  a  child !  When  ye  set 
yer  finger  onto  her,  she  ain't  there!  I  reckon  that 
mincing-mouthed  Aunt  Hitty's  hed  her  bad  times, 
too.  But  the  sooner  I  git  'round  to  see  Doctor  Jim  the 
better  it's  goin'  to  be  fer  the  little  wild  witch.  Land's 
sakes  alive !  But  'twon't  be  '  Debby  dear  '  to  me 
agin  fer  awhile.    How  them  eyes'll  blaze!    I'll  not 


Barbara  Ladd  3 1 


go  nigh  her  till  she's  hed  time  to  git  over  it  an' 
to  know  who's  really  her  friends.  No,  Pippin,  ye 
can't  come  with  me!    Go  'way!  " 

Turning  into  the  long  lean-to  of  a  shed  which 
stretched  behind  the  cabin,  she  brought  out  two 
stumpy  oars.  These  under  her  left  arm,  her  stalwart 
stick  in  her  right  hand,  she  limped  with  massive 
alertness  down  to  the  waterside,  shoved  off  the 
punt,  climbed  into  it  with  a  nicety  of  balance  re- 
markable in  one  of  her  weight,  clicked  the  oars  into 
the  rowlocks,  and  pulled  up-stream  toward  the  lake 
whence  Barbara  had  come. 


CHAPTER   III. 

The  child  who  set  forth  so  fearlessly,  on  so  auda- 
cious and  ill-regulated  a  venture,  that  midsummer 
morning  of  the  year  1769, — in  a  time  when  audacity 
on  the  part  of  small  girls  was  apt  to  meet  the  dis- 
couragement of  a  peculiarly  strenuous  discipline,  — 
was  an  accident  in  her  period,  an  irreconcilable  alien 
to  her  environment.  In  her  intense  individuality, 
and  in  the  confident  freedom  with  which  she  claimed 
the  right  to  express  that  individuality,  she  belonged 
to  an  earlier  or  a  later  day,  but  not  to  a  New  Eng- 
land of  the  eighteenth  century.  Two  years  before, 
at  the  age  of  twelve,  an  age  when  other  children's 
personalities  were  colourless  to  the  eyes  of  their 
elders,  she  had  been  projected  into  the  tranquil  rou- 
tine of  the  little  world  of  Second  Westings.  It  was 
an  established,  crystallised,  unchanging  life  there  in 
the  back  country  of  Connecticut,  where  hours,  sea- 
sons, actions,  habits,  revolved  in  so  orderly  a  fashion 
as  to  have  worn  themselves  grooves  out  of  which 
they  could  hardly  even  look,  still  less  achieve  to 
deviate.  Into  this  rigid  placidity  the  dark  child 
came  like  a  grain  of  ferment ;  and  presently,  no  one 


Barbara  Ladd  33 


could  tell  just  how,  the  mass  began  to  work.  Bar- 
bara was  everywhere  discussed.  She  was  rather 
unanimously  disapproved  of.  And,  nevertheless,  as 
it  were  in  the  teeth  of  all  probability,  she  won  to 
herself  here  and  there  a  friend. 

At  the  time  of  Barbara's  transplanting  from  the 
cordial  soil  of  Maryland  to  the  austere  uplands  of 
Connecticut,  her  father,  the  Reverend  Winthrop 
Hopkins  Ladd,  clergyman  of  the  Established  Church, 
had  been  dead  over  two  years,  and  the  child's  hurt, 
as  such  things  will,  had  outwardly  healed;  though 
the  hidden  wounds  would  agonise  in  her  heart  at 
unexpected  times,  set  vibrating  to  some  poignant 
touch  of  scent  or  sound  or  colour.  The  child  had 
adored  her  father  with  a  tempestuous  and  jealous 
devotion,  which,  however,  had  not  prevented  her 
waywardness  from  diversifying  his  repose  with 
many  a  wakeful  night.  Her  mother,  who  had  died 
when  Barbara  was  scarce  out  of  arms,  had  been 
a  bewildering  birth  from  the  kiss  of  North  Wales 
on  the  warm  south  of  Spanish  passion.  The  son  of 
an  old  Welsh  family,  adventuring  to  the  New  World 
to  capture  himself  a  fortune,  had  captured  himself 
also  a  wife  to  beggar  envy.  Where  or  how  he  got 
the  fortune,  no  man  knew  and  few  presumed  to  won- 
der ;  but  where  and  how  he  got  the  wife  was  matter 
of  noonday  knowledge.  He  saw  her  at  church  in 
New  Orleans.    There  were  looks  that  burn  and  live. 


34  Barbara  Ladd 


Through  that  emotional  spring  Glenowen  sniffed  the 
incense  of  more  masses  than  he  had  thought  to 
attend  in  a  lifetime.  Once  there  was  a  stolen  word 
behind  a  pillar,  eyes  warily  averted.  Twice  notes 
passed  from  hand  to  hand.  Then  a  girl,  the  daughter 
of  one  of  the  haughtiest  houses  of  Colonial  Spain, 
was  audaciously  carried  off  by  night  from  a  convent 
school  in  the  safe  heart  of  the  city.  When  next  seen 
of  the  world,  she  was  Glenowen's  wife,  most 
radiantly  and  graciously  dispensing  an  accepted  hos- 
pitality in  Baltimore. 

The  result  that  in  particular  pertains  to  this  his- 
tory was  a  small,  flame-like,  imperious  girl,  one 
Mistress  Mercedes  Glenowen,  who,  from  the  night 
of  ceremony  when  she  first  made  her  bow  to  the 
governor  and  joyously  turned  her  disastrous  eyes 
upon  the  society  of  Baltimore,  for  the  space  of  some 
three  years  dispersed  vain  heartache  throughout  the 
colony.  Into  the  remotest  plantations  went  the  name 
of  her  and  the  fame  of  her  —  and  too  often,  also, 
the  sickness  of  a  hopeless  desire  of  her.  There  were 
duels,  too,  discreetly  laid  to  other  cause;  and  old 
friendships  changed  to  hate;  and  wild  oaths  made 
perjury.  But  the  heart  of  Mistress  Mercedes  went 
free.  A  quiet  young  clergyman,  a  kinsman  to  the 
governor,  came  to  Baltimore  from  Boston,  on  his 
way  to  a  country  parish  on  the  Pawtuxet,  to  which  he 
had  just  been  appointed.     Dining  at  Government 


Barbara  Ladd  35 

House,  he  met  Mistress  Mercedes,  but  his  eyes,  being 
at  that  moment  immersed  in  dreams,  looked  not  upon 
but  through  and  beyond  her.  Mercedes  could  not  rest 
an  instant  until  those  far-wandering,  Northern  eyes 
were  ensnared,  imprisoned,  and  denied  a  range  be- 
yond the  boundaries  of  her  heart.  But  the  capture 
was  not  a  quick  one,  and  in  the  interest  of  it  she 
had  the  accident  to  become  herself  entangled,  to  such 
a  degree  that  she  had  no  longer  any  use  for  freedom. 
And  so  it  came  about,  to  the  wrathful  amaze  of  her 
retinue,  but  the  unspeakable  content  of  the  Reverend 
Winthrop  Ladd,  that  the  dark  rose  of  Maryland  was 
on  a  sudden  removed  from  Baltimore  to  bloom  on 
a  churchly  plantation  by  the  pale  waters  of  the 
Pawtuxet. 

Mr.  Ladd,  though  a  dreamer  so  far  as  consisted 
with  outdoor  life  and  sanity  of  brain  and  muscle, 
was  a  strong  man,  one  of  those  who  have  the  force 
to  rule  when  they  must,  and  the  gentleness  to  yield 
when  they  may.  In  the  passionate  completeness 
of  her  love,  Mercedes  sloughed  the  caprices  that 
would  have  pained  and  puzzled  him,  forgot  the 
very  echoes  of  the  acclamations  of  her  court,  and 
lived  in  the  sanctuary  of  her  husband's  devotion. 
For  nearly  three  years  the  strangely  assorted  lovers 
dwelt  in  their  dream,  while  the  world  passed  by 
them  like  a  pageant  viewed  through  a  glory  of  col- 
oured glass.     Then  a  sudden  sickness  tore  them 


36  Barbara  Ladd 


apart ;  and  when  the  dazed  man  came  slowly  back  to 
the  realisation  that  he  had  been  left  to  live,  all  his 
love,  with  all  the  illusion  of  it,  centred  itself  fixedly 
upon  the  little  one,  Barbara,  whom  Mercedes  had 
left  to  him. 

As  Barbara  grew  more  and  more  like  her  mother, 
her  ascendency  over  her  father  grew  more  and  more 
complete.  Tenderly  but  firmly  he  ruled  his  parish 
and  his  plantation.  But  he  gradually  forgot  to  rule 
Barbara.  Too  nearly  did  she  represent  to  him  all 
that  he  had  lost  in  his  worshipped  Mercedes;  and 
he  could  not  bring  himself  to  see  anything  but  fresh- 
ness of  character  and  vigour  of  personality  in  the 
child's  very  faults.  Hence  he  evolved,  to  suit  her 
particular  case,  a  theory  very  much  out  of  harmony 
with  his  time,  to  the  effect  that  a  child  —  or  rather, 
perhaps,  such  a  child  as  this  of  Mercedes  —  should 
not  be  governed  or  disciplined,  but  guided  merely, 
and  fostered  in  the  finding  of  her  own  untrammelled 
individuality.  This  plan  worked,  for  the  time,  to 
Barbara's  unqualified  approval,  but  she  was  destined 
to  pay  for  it,  in  later  years,  a  heavy  price  in  tears, 
and  misunderstandings,  and  repentance.  With  the 
growth  of  her  intense  and  confident  personality  there 
grew  no  balancing  strength  of  self-control.  Un- 
acquainted with  discipline,  she  was  without  the  safe- 
guard of  self-discipline.  Before  she  was  eight  years 
old  she  held  sway  over  every  one  on  the  plantation 


Barbara  Ladd  37 


but  herself,  —  and  her  rule,  though  pretty  and  be- 
witching, was  not  invariably  gentle.  As  for  her 
father,  though  ostensively  her  comrade  and  men- 
tor, he  was  by  this  time  in  reality  her  slave.  He  rode 
with  her;  he  read  with  her;  he  taught  her,  —  but 
such  studies  only  as  ensnared  her  wayward  inclina- 
tion, and  with  such  regularity  only  as  fell  in  with  her 
variable  mood.  The  hour  for  a  lesson  on  the  spinet 
would  go  by  unheeded,  if  Barbara  chanced  to  be  in- 
terested in  the  more  absorbing  occupation  of  climbing 
a  tree;  and  the  time  for  reciting  Latin  syntax  was 
lightly  forgotten  if  berries  were  a-ripening  in  the 
pasture.  Under  such  auspices,  however,  Barbara  did 
assuredly  grow  straight-limbed  and  active,  slight 
and  small  indeed,  by  heritage  from  her  mother,  but 
strong  and  of  marvellous  endurance,  with  the  clear 
blood  red  under  her  dark  skin,  her  great  gray-green 
eyes  luminous  with  health.  Her  father  devoted  to 
her  every  hour  of  the  day  that  he  could  spare  from 
the  claims  of  his  parish.  In  a  sunny  and  sandy  cove 
near  the  house  he  taught  her  to  swim.  Rowing  and 
canoeing  on  the  Pawtuxet  were  mysteries  of  outdoor 
craft  into  which  he  initiated  her  as  soon  as  her  little 
hands  could  pull  an  oar  or  swing  a  paddle.  A  certain 
strain  of  wildness  in  her  temperament  attuned  her 
to  a  peculiar  sympathy  with  the  canoe,  and  won  her  a 
swift  mastery  of  its  furtive  spirit.  In  the  woods, 
and  in  the  seclusion  of  remote  creeks  and  back- 


38  Barbara  Ladd 


waters,  her  waywardness  would  vanish  till  she  be- 
came silent  and  elusive  as  the  wild  things  whose 
confidence  she  was  for  ever  striving  to  gain.  Her 
advances  being  suspiciously  repelled  by  the  squirrels, 
the  'coons,  and  the  chipmunks,  her  passion  was  fain 
to  expend  itself  upon  the  domestic  animals  of  the 
plantation.  The  horses,  cattle,  dogs,  and  cats,  all 
loved  her,  and  she  understood  them  as  she  never 
understood  the  nearest  and  best-beloved  of  her  own 
kind.  With  the  animals  her  patience  was  untiring, 
her  gentleness  unfailing,  while  her  thoughtless 
selfishness  melted  into  a  devotion  for  which  no 
sacrifice  seemed  too  great. 

The  negroes  of  the  plantation,  who  seemed  to 
Barbara  akin  to  the  animals,  came  next  to  these  in 
her  regard,  and  indeed  were  treated  with  an  indul- 
gence which  made  them  almost  literally  lay  their 
black  necks  in  the  dust  for  her  little  feet  to  step  on. 
But  with  people  of  her  own  class  she  was  apt  to  be 
hasty  and  ungracious.  Their  feelings  were  of  small 
account  in  her  eyes  —  certainly  not  to  be  weighed  for 
a  moment  against  those  of  a  colt  or  a  kitten.  There 
was  one  sweet-eyed  and  lumbering  half-grown  puppy 
which  Barbara's  father  —  not  for  an  instant,  indeed, 
believing  anything  of  the  sort  —  used  to  declare 
was  more  precious  to  her  than  himself.  But  her  old 
black  "  Mammy  "  'Lize  used  to  vow  there  was  more 
truth  than  he  guessed  in  "  Marse  Ladd's  foolinV 


Barbara  Ladd  39 


However,  when  a  fever  snatched  the  gentle  priest 
away  from  the  scene  of  his  love  and  kindly  minis- 
trations, the  child's  true  self  emerged  through  its 
crust  of  whim  and  extravagance.  Stricken  beyond 
a  child's  usual  capacity  to  feel  or  realise  such  a  blow, 
she  was  herself  seized  with  a  serious  illness,  after 
which  she  fell  into  a  dejection  which  lasted  for  the 
better  part  of  a  year.  In  her  desolation  she  turned 
to  her  animals  rather  than  to  her  human  companions, 
and  found  the  more  of  healing  in  their  wordless 
sympathy. 

At  last,  youth  and  health  asserted  themselves,  and 
once  more  Barbara  rode,  paddled,  swam,  tyrannised, 
and  ran  wild  over  the  plantation,  while  relatives 
from  Maine  to  Maryland  wrangled  over  her  future. 

There  was  one  young  uncle,  her  mother's  only 
brother,  whom  Barbara  decided  to  adopt  as  her  sole 
guardian.  But  other  guardians  came  to  another  deci- 
sion. Uncle  Bob  Glenowen  was  an  uncle  after  Bar- 
bara's own  heart,  but  a  little  more  disciplined  and 
reasonable  than  herself.  The  two  would  have  got  on 
delightfully  together  —  together  careering  over  the 
country  on  high-mettled  horses,  together  swimming 
and  canoeing  at  the  most  irregular  hours,  together 
lauding  and  loving  their  four-foot  kindred  and 
laughing  to  scorn  the  general  stupidity  of  mankind. 
But  Uncle  Glenowen  had  little  of  gold  or  gear,  and 
his  local  habitation  was  mutable.    He  loved  Barbara 


40  Barbara  Ladd 


too  well  not  to  recognise  that  she  should  grow  up 
under  the  guidance  of  steadier  hands  than  his.  It  was 
finally  settled  —  Barbara's  fiery  indignation  being 
quite  disregarded  —  that  she  should  go  to  her 
father's  younger  sister,  Mistress  Mehitable  Ladd,  in 
Second  Westings. 

Mistress  Ladd  was  a  self-possessed,  fair-faced, 
aristocratic  little  lady,  with  large  blue  eyes  and  a 
very  firm,  small  mouth.  She  was  conscientious  to  a 
point  that  was  wont  to  bring  her  kindness,  at  times, 
into  painful  conflict  with  her  sense  of  duty.  The 
Puritan  fibre  ran  in  unimpaired  vitality  through  the 
texture  of  her  being,  with  the  result  that  whenever 
her  heart  was  so  rash  as  to  join  issue  with  her  con- 
science, then  prompt  and  disastrous  overthrow  was 
the  least  her  heart  could  expect  for  such  presump- 
tion. In  the  matter  of  Barbara's  future,  however, 
distress  Mehitable  felt  that  duty  and  inclination  ran 
together.  She  had  loved  her  brother  Winthrop  with 
unselfish  and  admiring  devotion,  and  had  grieved  in 
secret  for  years  over  his  defection  from  the  austere 
fold  of  the  Congregationalists  to  what  she  regarded 
as  the  perilously  carnal  form  and  ceremony  of  the 
Church  of  England.  Her  hampered  spirit,  her  un- 
completed womanhood,  yearned  toward  Barbara,  and 
she  shuddered  at  the  idea  of  Winthrop's  child  grow- 
ing up  untaught,  unmothered,  uncontrolled.  She 
made  up  her  mind  that  Barbara  should  come  ta 


Barbara  Ladd  4 1 

Second  Westings,  become  a  daughter  to  her,  and  be 
reared  in  the  purity  of  unsullied  Congregationalism. 
[With  a  sigh  of  concordant  relief  it  was  recognised 
by  the  other  relatives  that  Mehitable  was  right.  The} 
washed  their  hands  of  the  child,  and  forgot  her,  and 
were  thankful  —  all  but  Uncle  Bob.  And  so  Bar- 
bara went  to  Second  Westings. 


CHAPTER   IV. 

Little  enough,  indeed,  would  Second  Westings 
ever  have  seen  of  the  heartsore  and  rebellious  child, 
but  for  this  Uncle  Bob.  Searching  his  own  spirit, 
he  understood  hers;  and  maintaining  a  discreet 
silence  as  to  the  chief  points  of  his  discovery,  he  set 
himself  the  duty  of  accompanying  Barbara  on  the 
long,  complicated  journey  to  Connecticut.  Not  con- 
tent with  delivering  his  charge  into  the  hands  of 
Mistress  Mehitable,  —  whom  he  liked  despite  her 
uneasy  half-disapproval  of  himself,  —  he  stayed  long 
summer  weeks  at  Second  Westings,  thus  bridging 
over  for  Barbara  the  terrible  chasm  between  the  old 
life  and  the  new,  and  by  his  tactful  conciliation  on 
every  side  making  the  new  life  look  a  little  less 
hatefully  alien  to  her.  He  took  her  riding  all  over 
the  township ;  he  took  her  canoeing  on  the  lake,  and 
down  the  outlet  to  its  junction  with  the  river;  and 
so  not  only  won  her  a  freedom  of  movement  hitherto 
unheard-of  among  the  maidens  of  Second  Westings, 
but  also  showed  her  that  the  solace  of  wild  woods 
and  sweet  waters  was  to  be  found  no  less  in  Connecti- 
cut than  in  her  longed-for  Maryland.     Moreover, 

42 


Barbara  Ladd  43 


Uncle  Bob  had  "  a  presence."  Second  Westings 
scrutinised  him  severely,  all  ready  to  condemn  the 
stranger  folk  to  whom  Winthrop  Ladd  had  turned 
in  his  marrying.  But  Second  Westings  felt  con- 
strained to  acknowledge  at  once  that  Winthrop  Ladd 
had  married  within  his  class.  To  high  and  low  alike 
—  and  the  line  between  high  and  low  was  sharply 
drawn  at  Second  Westings  —  it  was  obvious  that 
the  sister  of  Air.  Robert  Glenowen  must  have  been 
gently  born.  Those  who  would  not  let  themselves 
be  warmed  by  Uncle  Bob's  bright  heartsomeness 
were  unable  to  withhold  acknowledgment  of  his  good 
breeding.  Mistress  Mehitable,  though  antagonised 
by  vague  gossip  as  to  his  "  wildness,"  nevertheless 
recognised  with  serious  relief  that  no  common  blood 
had  been  suffered  to  obscure  the  clear  blue  stream 
whose  purity  the  Ladds  held  precious.  "  Light,  I 
fear  —  if  not,  in  other  surroundings,  ungodly;  but 
beyond  all  cavil  a  gentleman !  "  pronounced  the  Rev- 
erend Jonathan  Sawyer,  flicking  snuff  from  his 
sleeve  with  white,  scholarly  fingers.  He  wTas  not  so 
innocent  as  to  attach  too  much  importance  to  Uncle 
Bob's  devout  attitude  through  those  interminable 
services  which  made  a  weekly  nightmare  of  the  Con- 
necticut Sabbath ;  but  he  had  found  a  reserved  satis- 
faction in  the  young  man's  company  over  a  seemly 
glass  and  a  pipe  of  bright  Virginia.  He  had  a  feel- 
ing that  the  visitor's  charm  was  more  or  less  sub- 


44  Barbara  Ladd 

versive  of  discipline,  and  that  it  would  be,  on  the 
whole,  for  the  spiritual  welfare  of  Second  Westings 
if  the  visit  should  be  brief;  but  meanwhile  he  took 
what  he  could  of  Uncle  Bob's  society.  Class  against 
creed,  and  a  fair  field,  and  it's  long  odds  on  class. 

But  in  the  minds  of  Doctor  John  and  Doctor  Jim 
Pigeon  —  physicians,  brothers,  comrades,  fierce  pro- 
fessional rivals,  justices  of  the  peace,  and  divinely 
self-appointed  guardians  of  the  sanctity  of  caste  for 
all  the  neighbourhood  —  there  were  no  misgivings. 
Their  instincts  accepted  Bob  Glenowen  at  first  glance. 
Their  great,  rugged  faces  and  mighty  shoulders 
towering  over  him,  —  and  Uncle  Bob  himself  was 
nowise  scant  of  stature,  —  they  looked  at  him  and 
then  into  each  other's  eyes ;  and  agreed,  as  they  did 
on  most  subjects  outside  the  theory  and  practice  of 
medicine. 

"  You  are  right  welcome  to  Second  Westings, 
Mr.  Glenowen!  "  exclaimed  Doctor  Jim,  in  a  big, 
impetuous  voice,  grasping  his  hand  heartily. 

"  And  we  trust  that  you  may  be  slow  to  leave  us, 
Mr.  Glenowen !"  added  Doctor  John,  in  a  voice  which 
any  competent  jury,  blindfolded,  would  have  pro- 
nounced identical. 

Recognising  the  true  fibre  and  the  fineness  of  these 
two  big,  gentle  autocrats,  Uncle  Bob  made  a  special 
point  of  commending  Barbara  to  their  hearts  —  in 
which  commending  he  so  well  sped,  and  indeed  was 


Barbara  Ladd  45 


S€  well  seconded  by  Barbara  herself,  who  loved  them 
from  the  moment  when  her  eyes  first  fell  upon  them, 
that  they  presently  constituted  themselves  special 
guardians  to  the  little  maid,  and  indulgent  mitigators 
of  Mistress  Mehitable's  conscience.  The  manner  in 
which  they  fulfilled  the  sometimes  conflicting  duties 
of  these  offices  will  appear  pretty  persistently  in  the 
sequel. 

It  was  to  Uncle  Bob,  also,  that  Barbara  owed  the 
somewhat  disreputable  friendship  of  old  Debby.  The 
very  first  day  that  he  and  Barbara  went  canoeing 
on  the  lake,  they  explored  the  outlet,  discovered  old 
Debby's  cabin,  paid  an  uninvited  call,  and  captivated 
the  old  dame's  crusty  heart.  Glenowen  knew  human 
nature.  He  had  the  knack  of  going  straight  to  the 
quintessential  core  of  it,  and  pinning  his  faith  to  that 
in  spite  of  all  unpromising  externals.  He  decided 
at  once  that  Debby  would  be  a  good  diversion  for 
Barbara  after  he  was  gone;  and  when,  later  in  the 
day,  he  learned  that  the  old  woman  was  universally 
but  vaguely  reprobated  by  the  prim  folk  of  Second 
Westings,  he  was  more  than  ever  assured  that  she 
would  be  a  comfort  to  Barbara  through  many  a 
dark  hour  of  strangerhood  and  virtuous  misunder- 
standing. 

But  Uncle  Bob's  visit  had  to  end.  He  went  away 
svith  misgivings,  leaving  Barbara  to  pit  her  careless 
candour,  her  thoughtless  self-absorption,  her  scorn 


46  Barbara  Ladd 


of  all  opinions  that  differed  from  her  own,  her 
caprices,  her  passionate  enthusiasms,  her  fierce  intol- 
erance of  criticism  or  control,  against  the  granitic 
conventions  of  an  old  New  England  village.  The 
half  guilty,  half  amused  support  of  Doctor  John 
and  Doctor  Jim  gave  importance  to  her  revolt,  and 
so  lightened  the  rod  of  Aunt  Hitty's  discipline  as 
to  save  Barbara  from  the  more  ignominious  of  the 
penalties  which  her  impetuous  wilfulness  would 
otherwise  have  incurred.  The  complete,  though 
forbidden,  sympathy  of  old  Debby,  affording  the  one 
safe  outlet  to  her  tumultuous  resentments  and  pas- 
sionate despairs,  saved  the  child  from  brain-sickness ; 
and  once,  indeed,  on  a  particularly  black  day  of 
humiliation,  from  suicide.  Barbara  had  shaken  the 
very  foundations  of  law,  order,  and  religion,  by 
riding  at  a  wild  gallop,  one  Sunday  afternoon,  down 
*he  wide  main  street  of  Second  Westings  just  as 
the  good  folk  were  coming  out  of  meeting.  Her 
rebellious  waves  of  dark  hair  streamed  out  behind 
her  little  head.  Her  white  teeth  flashed  wickedly 
between  her  parted  scarlet  lips,  her  big  eyes  flamed 
with  the  intoxication  of  liberty  and  protest  —  to 
these  good  folk  it  seemed  an  unholy  light.  Barbara 
ought  to  have  been  at  meeting,  but  had  been  left 
at  home,  reluctantly,  by  Aunt  Hitty,  because  she 
had  seemed  too  sick  to  get  out  of  bed.  In  very 
truth  she  had  been  sick  beyond  all  feigning.    Then 


Barbara  Ladd  47 


one  of  those  violent  reactions  of  recovery  which 
sometimes  cause  the  nervous  temperament  to  be 
miserably  misunderstood  had  seized  her  at  an  in- 
auspicious moment.  As  the  tide  of  young  vitality 
surged  back  to  brain  and  vein  and  nerve,  she  had 
felt  that  she  must  let  herself  loose  in  wild  action, 
or  die.  All  unrealising  the  enormity  of  the  offence, 
she  had  flung  down  her  mad  defiance  to  the  sanctified 
and  iron-bound  repose  of  the  New  England  Sabbath. 

Such  a  sacrilege  could  not  be  overlooked  or  con- 
doned. The  congregation  was  appalled.  Long  upper 
lips  were  drawn  down  ominously,  as  austere  eyes 
followed  the  vision  of  the  fleeing  child  on  the  great 
black  horse.  Could  it  be  that  she  was  possessed  of 
a  devil  ?  Pitying  eyes  were  turned  upon  Aunt  Hitty ; 
and  triumphant  eyes  of  gratified  grudge,  moreover, 
for  Aunt  Hitty  was  proud,  and  had  virtuous  ill- 
wishers  in  the  village.  But  Mistress  Mehitable  Ladd 
was  equal  to  the  occasion.  With  a  level  stare  of  her 
blue  eyes,  a  cold  tranquillity  upon  her  small,  fine 
mouth,  she  froze  comment  and  forestalled  sugges- 
tion. The  feeling  went  abroad,  in  a  subtle  way,  that 
the  case  would  be  dealt  with  and  the  piety  of  Second 
Westings  vindicated  in  the  eyes  of  Heaven.  Doctor 
John  and  Doctor  Jim  looked  grave,  and  said  not  a 
word.  This  was  a  time  when  Mistress  Mehitable, 
they  well  knew,  would  brook  no  interference. 

Of  course  there  could  be  no  question  of  such  cor- 


48  Barbara  Ladd 


rection  as  would  have  fallen  to  the  lot  of  any  ordi- 
nary offender.  There  could  be  no  such  thing  as 
putting  a  Ladd  in  the  stocks.  The  regular  machinery 
of  village  law  rested  quiescent.  Equally  of  course, 
Mistress  Mehitable  would  do  nothing  in  anger.  She 
was  humiliated  before  the  whole  village,  in  a  manner 
that  could  never  be  forgotten  or  wiped  out.  But 
her  first  feeling  and  her  last  feeling  were  alike  of 
sorrow  only.  She  would  do  her  duty  because  Win- 
throp's  child  must  be  saved.  But  she  had  no  proud 
consciousness  of  virtue  in  doing  it.  First, .she  at- 
tempted to  explain  to  Barbara  the  depth,  quality,  and 
significance  of  her  sin,  its  possible  influence  upon  the 
ethics  of  Second  Westings  if  allowed  to  go  unpun- 
ished, the  special  variety  of  inherited  evil  which  it 
revealed  in  her  nature,  and  her  stupendous  need  of 
having  this  evil  eradicated  by  devotedly  merciless 
correction.  After  the  first  few  words  of  this  exhor- 
tation, Barbara  heard  no  more.  She  was  at  all  times 
fiercely  impatient  of  criticism,  and  now,  being  deter- 
mined not  to  fly  into  a  fury  and  further  complicate 
her  predicament,  she  shut  her  eyes,  inwardly  closed 
her  ears,  and  concentrated  her  imagination  on  memo- 
ries of  the  longed-for  plantation  by  the  Pawtuxet. 
This  concentration  gave  her  vivid  little  face  an  air 
of  quietude,  subjection,  and  voiceless  sorrow,  which 
Aunt  Hitty  was  glad  to  construe  as  repentance.  But 
it  earned  no  mitigation  of  punishment.     For  one 


Barbara  Ladd  4^ 


whole  week  Barbara  was  a  prisoner  in  her  room, 
eating  her  heart  out  in  hatred  of  the  stupidity  and 
injustice  of  life.  Then  came  around,  at  last,  another 
Sabbath.  Barbara  was  taken  to  church.  There  her 
proud  soul  was  affronted  by  a  public  rebuke  from 
the  pastor,  who  exhorted  her  from  the  pulpit,  con- 
tented the  congregation  by  a  rehearsal  of  her  punish- 
ment, and  held  her  up  as  an  example  to  the  other 
children  of  the  village.  Barbara  listened  with  shut 
eyes  and  white  lips,  her  heart  bursting  with  rage. 
She  ached  to  kill  him,  to  kill  her  aunt,  to  annihilate 
Second  Westings  —  saving  only  the  animals,  old 
Debby,  Mercy  Chapman,  Doctor  John  and  Doc- 
tor Jim.  But  when  the  good  divine  went  on  to  say 
that  her  discipline  would  be  concluded  with  a  whole- 
some chastisement  on  the  morrow,  in  the  privacy 
of  the  house  to  which  her  sinful  conduct  had  brought 
grief,  —  then,  indeed,  her  heart  stood  still.  She  felt 
a  great  calmness  come  over  her.  She  made  up  her 
mind  to  escape  by  her  window  that  very  evening 
and  drown  herself  in  the  lake.  If  life  contained  such 
horrors  she  would  have  done  with  it. 

She  did  not  go  that  night,  however,  because  she 
feared  the  dark.  It  was  gray  dawn  when  she  climbed 
from  her  window.  Blind,  resolved,  swift-footed,  she 
fled  through  the  woods.  Old  Debby,  resting  in  her 
punt  by  the  lake's  edge,  not  far  from  the  Ladd  land- 
ing-place,  was   pulling   some   sweet-rooted   water- 


5<D  Barbara  Ladd 

plants  of  a  virtue  known  only  to  herself,  when  she 
was  startled  by  a  heavy  splash  and  a  little  gasping 
cry  which  came  from  the  other  side  of  a  steep  point 
some  four  or  five  rods  distant.  Her  vigorous  old 
arms  drove  the  punt  through  the  water  in  mad 
haste  —  for  there  was  something  in  the  cry  that 
wrenched  at  her  heart.  Rounding  the  point,  she 
stood  close  in  to  the  foot  of  a  rock  which  jutted 
out  into  five  or  six  feet  of  water.  Peering  down  over 
the  side  of  the  punt,  she  saw  lying  on  the  bottom  a 
slim,  small  body.  A  groan  burst  from  her  lips,  for 
Barbara's  face  was  half  visible;  and  the  old  woman 
understood  at  once.  She  had  heard  the  village  gos- 
sip, and  she  had  feared  a  tragedy.  She  knew  that 
Barbara  could  swim,  —  but  there  was  her  long  scarf 
of  red  silk  twisted  about  the  little  arms  lest  resolu- 
tion should  falter  in  the  face  of  the  last  great 
demand. 

For  a  second  old  Debby  was  at  fault.  She  could 
not  swim.  Then  her  brain  worked.  Reaching  down 
with  one  of  the  oars,  she  twisted  the  blade  tightly 
into  the  skirt  of  the  child's  gown,  pulled  her  up,  and 
snatched  her  into  the  boat.  Experienced  and  ready 
in  emergency,  the  old  woman  thrust  ashore,  laid  the 
moveless  little  figure  down  upon  a  mossy  hillock,  and 
in  a  very  few  minutes  succeeded  in  bringing  it  back 
to  conscious  life.  She  asked  no  questions,  while  Bar- 
bara clung  to  her,  sobbing  spasmodically  at  long 


Barbara  Ladd  5 1 

^  —  * 

intervals.  She  murmured  pet  names  to  her,  caressed 
and  soothed  her,  told  her  she  was  safe  and  no  one 
should  abuse  her,  and  finally,  lifting  her  into  the 
punt  and  laying  her  gently  on  an  armful  of  sweet 
bracken  in  th/»  stern,  rowed  over  the  lake  to  her 
cabin.  Throughout  the  journey  Barbara  lay  with 
closed  eyes,  while  the  young  life,  slowly  but  obsti- 
nately reasserting  itself,  brought  back  the  colour  to 
cheeks  and  lips.  Only  once  did  she  speak.  Lifting 
her  lids,  she  gazed  fixedly  at  the  hard-lined  old  face 
that  bent  over  the  swaying  oars. 

"  Oh,  why  did  you  do  it,  Debby  dear?  "  she  asked, 
weakly.     "  If  you  knew  how  I  hate  to  live!  " 

"  Tut !  tut !  honey !  "  answered  the  old  woman, 
with  a  cheerful  positiveness  that  made  her  despair 
suddenly  seem  to  Barbara  unreasonable  and  unreal. 
"  Ye  don't  want  to  die  yet  awhile.  An'  whatever 
ye  want,  ye  cain't  die  yet  awhile,  fer  I've  seen  it 
in  yer  blessed  little  hands  that  ye've  got  a  long  life 
afore  ye.  Moresoever,  I  read  it  that  life's  got  a 
heap  of  happiness  in  store  fer  ye.  So  you  be  brave, 
Miss  Barby,  an'  think  how  Uncle  Bob  would  'a' 
broke  his  poor  heart  if  ye'd  got  yer  own  way  an' 
drownded  yerself." 

"  Yes,"  murmured  Barbara,  drowsily,  sinking 
away  into  peace  after  her  long  pain,  "  Uncle  Bob 
would  have  been  sorry !  "    Then,  after  a  pause,  she 


52  Barbara  Ladd 


added  softly  under  her  breath :  "  I'll  run  away  and 
go  to  Uncle  Bob  some  day !  " 

Old  Debby  heard  the  words,  but  made  no  com- 
ment. She  stored  them  in  her  memory,  and  after- 
ward kept  crafty  watch  whenever  she  saw,  by 
Barbara's  mood,  that  a  crisis  was  on  at  Aunt  Hitty's. 
For  the  time,  however,  she  felt  no  great  anxiety, 
it  being  very  plain  to  her  that  this  present  crisis 
was  past,  and  that  Barbara  was  no  longer  strung 
up  to  the  pitch  of  violent  action  or  any  course  that 
would  require  initiative.  Nerve  and  will  alike  re- 
laxed, the  child  was  submissive  through  exhaustion. 
At  the  cabin  Debby  first  made  her  eat  some  break- 
fast, and  then  got  her  interested  in  a  brood  of 
chickens  just  one  day  out  of  the  shell.  The  mother 
hen  ruffled  her  feathers,  scolded  in  shrill  protest, 
and  pecked  angrily,  but  Barbara  reached  under  the 
brooding  wings  and  drew  out  a  bead-eyed,  golden- 
yellow,  downy  ball.  Her  face  lightened  tenderly 
as  she  felt  the  tiny  bill  and  fragile  baby  claws  snug- 
gling against  her  enclosing  palms. 

"She's  all  right  now!"  said  old  Debby  to  her- 
self, nodding  her  head  in  satisfaction.  Aloud  she 
said,  —  as  she  got  a  clean  white  sunbonnet  out  of 
the  chest,  adjusted  it  on  her  sparse  locks,  and  tied 
its  strings  beneath  her  grim  chin,  —  "  I'm  goin'  to 
leave  ye  a  bit,  honey,  to  mind  the  chickens  fer  me 
an'  look  after  the  place  while  I  go  in  to  Second  West- 


Barbara  Ladd  53 


ings  to  hev  a  bit  o'  talk  with  Doctor  Jim.    Promise 
me  not  to  quit  the  place  while  I'm  gone?  " 

"  I'll  take  good  care  of  everything  till  you  get 
back,  Debby,"  answered  Barbara,  abstractedly,  with- 
out turning  her  head.  She  had  relinquished  the 
downy  chicken,  and  was  busy  conciliating  the  ruffled 
hen  with  crumbs. 


CHAPTER   V. 

It  was  without  misgiving  that  old  Debby  left  the 
child  to  the  healing  of  the  solitude  and  the  sun,  the 
little  wholesome  responsibility,  the  unexacting  com- 
panionship of  the  cat  and  the  fowls.  (This  was 
before  the  day  of  the  yellow  pup,  which  did  not 
come  upon  the  scene  until  the  following  summer.) 
She  had  already  learned  that  Barbara's  promise  was 
a  thing  to  depend  upon ;  and  she  felt  that  Barbara's 
heart  would  now  be  medicined  more  sweetly  by 
silence  than  by  words. 

The  problem  to  whose  solution  the  dauntless  old 
woman  had  set  herself  was  that  of  getting  Barbara 
back  to  her  aunt's  house  on  terms  that  should  ward 
off  any  further  discipline.  With  this  end  in  view  she 
turned,  as  a  matter  of  course,  to  Doctor  Jim  Pigeon. 
Debby's  position  in  Second  Westings  was  theoretic- 
ally that  of  an  outlaw.  She  had  a  mysterious  past. 
She  was  obstinately  refractory  about  going  to  meet- 
ing. Without  actually  defying  the  authorities,  she 
would  quietly  and  unobtrusively  go  her  own  way 
in  regard  to  many  matters  which  Second  Westings 
accounted  momentous.     Moreover,  she  was  lamen- 

54 


Barbara  Ladd  55 


tably  lacking  in  that  subservience  to  her  betters  which 
the  aristocracy  of  Second  Westings  held  becoming. 
And  she  had  knowledge  that  savoured  of  witchcraft. 
She  would  certainly  have  felt  the  heavy  hand  of 
correction  more  than  once,  and  probably  have  been 
driven  to  seek  a  more  humane  environment,  but  for 
the  staunch  befriending  of  Doctor  Jim.  Something 
in  the  old  woman's  fearless  independence  appealed 
to  both  the  big,  loud-voiced,  soft-hearted  brothers 
—  but  to  Doctor  Jim  in  particular.  He  in  particular 
came  to  perceive  her  clear  common  sense,  to  appre- 
ciate the  loyal  and  humane  heart  that  lurked  within 
her  acrid  personality.  He  openly  showed  his  favour, 
and  stood  between  her  and  persecution,  till  Second 
Westings  taught  itself  to  regard  her  offences  as 
privileged.  So,  though  an  outlaw,  she  became  a  use- 
ful and  tolerated  one.  She  served  surpassingly  to 
point  a  moral  in  family  admonitions.  She  was  much 
in  favour  as  a  bogy  to  frighten  crying  children  into 
silence.  And  furthermore,  when  deadly  sickness 
chanced  to  fall  upon  a  household,  and  skilled  help 
was  lacking,  and  self-righteous  prejudice  melted 
away  in  the  crucible  of  anguish,  then  old  Debby  was 
wont  to  appear  unsummoned  and  work  marvels  by 
the  magic  of  her  nursing.  Doctor  Jim  had  been 
known  to  declare  defiantly  that  Debby  Blue's  nursing 
had  saved  patients  wThom  all  his  medicines  could  not 
cure,  —  whereto   Doctor   John   had   retorted,   with 


56  Barbara  Ladd 


brotherly  sarcasm,  "  In  spite  of  your  medicines,  Jim 
—  in  spite  of  them !  Debby  is  the  shield  and  buckler 
of  your  medical  reputation." 

So  it  was  of  course  that  the  old  woman  turned  to 
Doctor  Jim  in  her  difficulty.  She  knew  that  both 
brothers  loved  Barbara,  and  that  both,  individually 
and  collectively,  had  more  influence  with  Mistress 
Mehitable  Ladd  than  any  other  living  mortal  could 
boast.  She  would  talk  to  Doctor  Jim.  Doctor  Jim 
wrould  talk  to  Doctor  John.  Doctor  John  and  Doctor 
Jim  would  together  talk  to  Mistress  Mehitable.  And 
Barbara  would  be  taken  back  without  penalty  of 
further  exhortation  or  discipline.  If  not  —  well, 
old  Debby's  mind  was  made  up  as  to  what  she  would 
do  in  such  a  distressing  contingency.  She  would 
herself  run  away  with  Barbara  that  same  night,  in 
cunning  disguise  and  by  devious  ways,  and  travel 
to  find  Uncle  Bob. 

But  there  was  to  be  no  need  of  such  audacious 
adventuring.  When  Doctor  Jim  heard  what  Barbara 
had  done,  he  was  sorely  wrought  up.  He  glared 
fiercely  and  wonderingly;  his  shaggy  eyebrows 
knitted  and  knotted  as  he  listened;  he  dashed  his 
hands  through  his  hair  till  the  well  dressed  locks 
were  sadly  disarranged.  When  Debby  ceased  speak- 
ing he  sprang  up  with  an  inarticulate  roar,  knocking 
over  two  chairs  and  one  of  the  andirons. 

"  They  have  gone  too  far  with  the  child,"  he  cried 


Barbara  Ladd  57 


out  at  last,  mastering  his  ebullient  emotions.  "  She 
is  too  high-strung  for  our  rude  handling.  I  swear 
she  shall  not  be  persecuted  any  longer  —  not  if  I 
have  to  take  her  away  myself.  No  —  not  a  word, 
not  a  word,  Debby!  Not  another  word!  I'll  just 
step  across  the  yard  and  speak  to  Doctor  John.  Be 
good  enough  to  wait  here  till  I  return." 

Without  hat  or  stick  he  ramped  tempestuously 
across  to  his  brother's  office,  in  the  opposite  wing  of 
the  big,  white-porticoed,  red-doored  house  which 
they  occupied  together.  He  left  old  Debby  well  con- 
tent with  the  first  step  in  her  undertaking.  She  had 
but  a  little  to  wait  ere  he  returned,  noisy,  hurried, 
and  decisive. 

"  Now,  my  good  Debby,"  he  shouted,  "  I'm  ready 
to  accompany  you.  I  will  fetch  Barbara  myself. 
Doctor  John  is  going  over  to  lay  our  views  before 
Mistress  Ladd,  and  I'll  warrant  that  wise  and  gentle 
lady  will  see  the  matter  clearly,  just  as  we  do.  Yes, 
yes,  my  good  Debby,  we  have  all  been  forgetting  that 
the  little  wild  rose  of  Maryland  cannot  be  at  once 
inured  to  the  rigours  of  our  New  England  air.  Eh, 
what?" 

When  Doctor  Jim  and  the  old  woman  reached  the 
cabin  they  found  Barbara  sound  asleep,  curled  up 
in  the  sun  beside  the  stoop,  one  arm  around  the 
gray-and-white  cat,  which  lay,  fast  asleep  also, 
against  her  breast.    There  was  a  darkness  about  her 


58  Barbara  Ladd 


eyes,  a  hurt  droop  at  the  corners  of  her  full  red 
mouth,  but  the  colour  came  wholesomely  under  the 
transparent  tan  of  her  cheeks.  The  picture  stirred 
a  great  ache  in  Doctor  Jim's  childless  heart,  and  with 
a  tender  growl  he  strode  forward  to  snatch  her  up 
from  her  hard  couch. 

"  S't !  Don't  ye  frighten  the  poor  baby !  "  said  old 
Debby.  Whereupon  Doctor  Jim  went  softly, 
mincing  his  big  steps,  and  knelt  down,  and  gathered 
the  little  figure  in  his  arms.  Waking  slowly,  Bar- 
bara slipped  her  arms  around  his  neck,  thrust  her 
face  under  his  chin,  drew  a  long  sigh  of  satisfac- 
tion; and  so,  the  revolt  and  cruel  indignation  for 
the  time  all  quenched  in  her  wild  spirit,  she  was  car- 
ried down  to  the  punt.  Everything  seemed  settled 
without  explanation  or  argument  or  promise.  The 
trouble  was  all  shifted  to  Doctor  Jim's  broad 
shoulders. 

"  Good-bye,  Debby  dear !  "  she  murmured  to  the 
old  woman,  reaching  down  a  caressing  hand ;  "  I'll 
come  to  see  you  in  a  few  days,  as  soon  as  Aunt 
Hitty  will  let  me!" 

During  the  journey  homeward  Barbara  threw  off 
her  languor,  and  became  animated  as  the  punt  surged 
ahead  under  Doctor  Jim's  huge  strokes.  The  con- 
versation grew  brisk,  touching  briefly  such  diverse 
topics  as  the  new  bay  mare  which  the  doctor  had 
just  purchased  from  Squire  Hopgood  of  Westings 


Barbara  Ladd  59 


Centre,  and  the  latest  point  of  exasperation  between 
the  merchants  of  Boston  and  the  officers  of  the  king's 
customs  at  that  unruly  port.  This  latter  subject  was 
one  on  which  Doctor  Jim  and  Barbara  had  already- 
learned  to  disagree  with  a  kind  of  affectionate 
ferocity.  The  child  was  a  rebel  in  every  fibre,  while 
Doctor  Jim  had  a  vigorous  Tory  prejudice  which 
kept  his  power  of  polemic  well  occupied  in  Second 
Westings.  The  two  were  presently  so  absorbed  in 
controversy  that  the  rocky  point  of  the  morning's 
attempted  tragedy  was  passed  without  the  tribute 
of  a  shudder  or  even  a  recognition.  At  last,  with 
a  mighty,  half  wrathful  surge  upon  the  oars,  Doctor 
Jim  beached  the  punt  at  the  landing-place.  As  the 
distracted  wave  of  his  violence  seethed  hissing  up 
the  gravel  and  set  the  neighbour  sedges  a-swinging, 
he  leaned  forward  and  fixed  the  eager  girl  with  a 
glare  from  under  the  penthouse  of  his  eyebrows. 
Open-mouthed  and  intent,  Barbara  waited  for  his 
pronouncement. 

"  Child !  "  said  he,  waving  a  large,  but  white  and 
fine  forefinger  for  emphasis,  "  Don't  you  let  that 
amiable  and  disreputable  old  vagabond,  Debby  Blue, 
or  that  pestilent  rebel,  Doctor  John  Pigeon,  stuff 
your  little  head  with  notions.  It's  your  place  to 
stand  by  the  Crown,  right  or  wrong.  Remember 
your  blood.  You  know  right  well  which  side  your 
father  would  have  stood  upon!    Eh,  what?  " 


6o  Barbara  Ladd 


The  disputatious  confidence  died  out  of  Barbara's 
face.  For  a  moment  her  head  drooped,  for  she 
knew  in  her  heart  how  thoroughly  that  worshipped 
father  would  have  identified  himself  with  the  king's 
party  as  soon  as  occasion  arose.  Then  she  looked  up, 
and  a  mocking  light  danced  in  her  gray  eyes,  while 
her  mouth  drew  itself  into  lines  of  solemnity. 

"  I  promise,"  she  exclaimed,  leaning  forward  and 
laying  a  thin  little  gipsy  hand  on  Doctor  Jim's  knee, 
as  if  registering  a  vow,  "  that  I  won't  harm  your 
dear  King  George!  " 

"Baggage!"  shouted  Doctor  Jim,  snatching  her 
from  her  seat  and  stalking  up  the  beach  with  her. 

Arriving  at  the  Ladd  place  from  the  rear,  by  way 
of  the  pasture  and  the  barnyard,  they  found  Doctor 
John  awaiting  them.  He  was  leaning  over  the  little 
wicket  gate  at  the  back  of  the  garden,  eating  a  hand- 
ful of  plump  gooseberries.  With  affected  sternness 
he  eyed  their  approach,  not  uttering  a  word  till 
Barbara  violently  pushed  the  gate  open  and  rushed 
at  him.  Then,  straightening  himself  to  his  full 
height,  —  he  had  a  half-head  to  the  good  of  even 
the  towering  Doctor  Jim,  —  he  extended  his  hand  to 
her,  and  said,  civilly : 

"  Do  have  a  gooseberry!  " 

At  this  Barbara  shrieked  with  laughter.  Doctor 
John  always  seemed  to  her  the  very  funniest  thing 
in  the  world,  and  his  humour,  in  season  and  out  of 


Barbara  Ladd  6 1 


season,  quite  irresistible.  At  the  same  time  she 
pounded  him  impatiently  with  her  fists,  and  tried  to 
pull  him  down  to  her. 

"  I  don't  want  a  gooseberry,"  she  cried.  "  I  want 
you  to  kiss  me.  I  haven't  seen  you  for  more  than 
a  week,  and  you  go  and  act  just  as  if  I  had  seen  you 
every  day !  " 

Doctor  John  stooped,  but  held  her  at  arm's  length, 
and  gazed  at  her  with  preternatural  gravity. 

"  Tell  me  one  thing,"  he  said. 

"  What?  "  whispered  Barbara,  impressed. 

"  Have  you  been  taking  any  of  Jim  Pigeon's 
physic  since  I  saw  you  ?  " 

"  No !  "  shrieked  Barbara,  with  another  wild  peal 
of  laughter.  "  Doctor  Jim's  a  Tory.  He  might 
poison  me!  " 

"Then  you  shall  have  one  kiss  —  no,  two!" 
said  Doctor  John,  picking  her  up. 

"  Ten  —  twenty  —  a  hundred !  "  insisted  the 
child,  hugging  him  violently. 

"  There !  there !  Enough  is  as  good  as  a  feast !  " 
interrupted  Doctor  John,  presently,  untwining  her 
arms  and  setting  her  down.  Then,  Doctor  Jim 
holding  one  of  her  hands  and  Doctor  John  the  other, 
she  skipped  gaily  up  the  path  toward  the  house,  like 
a  wisp  of  light  dancing  between  their  giant  bulks. 

At  this  moment  the  figure  of  Mistress  Mehitable 
appeared  on  the  porch;   and  Barbara  felt  suddenly 


62  Barbara   Ladd 


abashed.  A  realisation  of  all  that  had  occurred,  all 
she  had  done,  all  she  had  suffered,  rushed  over  her. 
Her  little  fingers  shut  like  steel  upon  the  great,  com- 
forting hands  that  held  them,  and  the  colour  for  a 
moment  faded  out  of  her  cheeks.  Doctor  John 
and  Doctor  Jim  both  felt  the  pang  of  emotion  that 
darted  through  her.  She  felt,  rather  than  saw,  that 
their  big  faces  leaned  above  her  tenderly.  But  she 
did  not  want  them  to  speak.  She  was  afraid  they 
might  not  say  the  right  thing.  She  felt  that  she 
must  say  something  at  once,  to  divert  their  attention 
from  her  plight.  She  looked  around  desperately 
and  caught  sight,  in  the  barnyard  behind  her,  of  the 
hired  man  milking  the  vicious  red  "  mooley  "  cow 
that  would  not  let  Abby  milk  her. 

"  Why !  "  she  exclaimed,  with  a  vast  show  of  in- 
terest and  surprise,  "there's  Amos  milking  Mooley !" 

On  the  instant  she  recognised  the  bald  irrelevancy 
of  the  remark,  and  wished  she  had  not  spoken.  But 
Doctor  John  turned  his  head,  eyed  Amos  with  critical 
consideration,  and  said : 

"  Goodness  gracious !  why,  so  it  is !  Now,  do 
you  know,  I  should  have  expected  to  see  the  parson, 
or  Squire  Gillig,  milking  Mooley.  Dear  me,  dear 
me!" 

At  this,  though  the  deeper  half  of  her  heart  was 
sick  with  apprehensive  emotion,  the,_other  half  was 
irresistibly  titillated,  and  she  laughed  hysterically; 


Barbara   Ladd  63 


while  Doctor  Jim  emitted  a  vast,  appreciative  guffaw. 
Before  anything  more  could  be  said,  the  voice  of 
Mistress  Mehitable  came  from  the  porch,  kindly 
sweet,  familiar,  and  cadenced  as  if  no  cataclysms 
whatever  had  lately  shaken  the  world. 

"  Supper  is  waiting,"  she  said,  and  smiled  upon 
them  gently  as  they  approached. 

"We  come,  fair  mistress!"  responded  Doctor 
Jim,  modulating  his  voice  to  a  deferential  softness. 

"  We  come  —  and  here  we  are,"  broke  out  Doc- 
tor John,  snatching  up  Barbara,  dashing  forward, 
and  thrusting  her  into  her  aunt's  not  unwilling  arms. 

It  was  a  wise  device  to  surmount  the  difficulty  of 
the  meeting. 

"  I  am  truly  most  glad  to  see  you,  my,  dear  child," 
said  Mistress  Mehitable,  earnestly,  pressing  Barbara 
to  her  heart  and  kissing  her  on  the  forehead.  Bar- 
bara looked  up,  searched  her  aunt's  face  piercingly 
for  a  second,  saw  that  the  gentle  blue  eyes  were 
something  red  and  swollen  with  weeping,  and  im- 
pulsively lifted  her  lips  to  be  kissed. 

"  I  am  sorry  I  grieved  you,  Aunt  Hitty,"  she 
whispered,  "  I'll  try  hard  not  to." 

Mistress  Mehitable  kissed  her  again,  almost  im- 
petuously, gave  her  a  squeeze  of  understanding,  and 
with  her  arm  over  the  child's  shoulder  led  the  way 
in  to  supper. 


CHAPTER   VI. 

After  this  upheaval  there  was  better  under- 
standing for  a  time  between  Barbara  and  Mistress 
Mehitable.  The  lady  made  an  honest  effort  to  allow 
for  some  of  the  differences  in  the  point  of  view  of 
a  child  brought  up  on  a  Maryland  plantation,  under 
another  creed,  and  spoiled  from  the  cradle.  She 
tried,  also,  to  allow  for  the  volcanic  and  alien  strain 
which  mingled  in  Barbara's  veins  with  the  well-or- 
dered blood  of  the  Ladds.  But  this  alien  strain  was 
something  she  instinctively  resented  and  instinctively 
longed  to  subdue.  Moreover,  she  lacked  imagina- 
tion ;  and  therefore,  with  the  most  sincere  good  pur- 
pose on  both  sides,  the  peace  between  herself  and 
Barbara  was  but  superficial,  demanding  the  price  of 
ceaseless  vigilance.  Barbara,  on  her  part,  strove  to 
be  more  diligent  with  her  tasks,  and  greatly  con- 
ciliated Mistress  Mehitable  by  her  swift  progress  in 
plain  sewing,  penmanship,  and  playing  on  the  harp- 
sichord ;  and  she  quickly  learned  to  read  aloud  with 
a  charm  and  a  justness  of  emphasis  which  her  aunt 
never  wearied  of  commending.  But  with  the  elab- 
orate Dresden  embroidery  and  intricate  lace-making, 

64 


Barbara  Ladd  65 


and  the  flummery  art  of  "  papyrotamia  "  —  a  cutting 
of  paper  flowers  —  which  then  occupied  the  leisure 
of  young  maids  of  gentle  breeding,  Barbara  had  no 
patience  at  all.  She  scorned  and  hated  them  —  and 
she  purchased  her  release  from  them  by  electing 
rather  the  rigid  and  exacting  pursuit  of  Latin  gram- 
mar, which  only  masculine  intellects  were  considered 
competent  to  acquire.  In  this  she  had  had  some 
grounding  from  her  father;  and  now,  under  the 
sympathetic  tuition  of  Doctor  John,  she  found  its 
strenuous  intricacies  a  satisfaction  to  her  restless 
brain,  and  made  such  progress  as  to  compel  the 
reluctant  commendation  of  the  Reverend  Jonathan 
Sawyer  himself. 

Meanwhile,  seeing  the  restraint  under  which  the 
child  was  holding  herself,  Mistress  Mehitable  tried 
to  moderate  to  some  degree  her  disapproval  of  Bar- 
bara's vagaries  and  impetuosities,  so  that  sometimes 
her  wild  rides,  her  canoeings  at  unseemly  hours,  her 
consortings  with  old  Debby,  her  incorrigible  absences 
from  the  noonday  board,  were  suffered  to  go  almost 
unrebuked.  But  it  was  a  perennial  vexation  to  Mis- 
tress Mehitable  to  observe  Barbara's  haughty  indif- 
ference to  the  other  young  girls  of  her  own  class  in 
the  township,  who  were  her  fitting  associates  and 
might  have  redeemed  her  from  her  wildness ;  while, 
on  the  other  hand,  she  insisted  on  making  an  intimate 
of  Mercy  Chapman,  the  daughter  of  Doctor  John's 


66  Barbara  Ladd 


hired  man.  Barbara  found  all  the  girls  whom  her 
aunt  approved  hopelessly  uninteresting  —  prim, 
docile,  pious,  uninformed,  addicted  to  tatting,  excited 
over  feather-work.  But  Mercy  Chapman  was  fear- 
less, adventurous  within  her  limits,  protectingly  ac- 
quainted with  all  the  birds'  nests  in  the  neighbour- 
hood, and  passionately  fond  of  animals,  especially 
horses  and  cats.  Mercy  Chapman,  therefore,  was 
admitted  very  cordially  to  certain  outer  chambers  of 
Barbara's  heart ;  while  the  daughters  of  Squire  Gran- 
nis  and  Lawyer  Perley  were  treated  to  a  blank  indif- 
ference which  amounted  to  incivility,  and  excited  the 
excoriating  comment  of  their  mammas. 

Another  severe  trial  to  Mistress  Mehitable's 
patience  was  Barbara's  unhousewifely  aversion  to 
the  kitchen.  She  vowed  she  could  not  abide  the  smell 
of  cooking  in  her  hair,  averring  that  all  cooks  carried 
the  savour  of  the  frying-pan.  When  her  aunt 
pointed  out  how  humiliated  she  would  be  when  she 
came  to  have  a  house  of  her  own,  she  declared  there 
would  be  time  enough  to  learn  when  that  day  threat- 
ened ;  and  she  stoutly  asseverated,  moreover,  that  she 
could  cook  without  learning.  Upon  this  rash  claim 
Mistress  Mehitable  pinned  her  to  a  test,  being 
minded  to  abase  her  for  her  soul's  good;  but  she 
emerged  from  the  trial  with  vast  accession  of  pres- 
tige, doing  up  sundry  tasty  desserts  with  a  readiness 
born  of  past  interest  in  the  arcana  of  her  father's 


Barbara  Ladd  67 


kitchen  by  the  Pawtuxet.  But  for  all  her  aunt's 
exhortations  she  would  explore  no  further  in  the 
domain  of  bake-pan  and  skillet.  There  was  antag- 
onism, moreover,  between  Barbara  and  Abby,  to  the 
point  that  if  Mistress  Mehitable  had  prevailed  with 
her  niece  in  this  matter,  she  would  have  found  herself 
obliged  to  change  her  cook. 

There  was  one  department  of  the  household 
economy,  however,  in  which  Barbara  was  ever  ready 
to  meet  her  aunt  half-way.  It  furnished  a  common 
ground,  whereon  many  a  threatened  rupture  was 
averted,  or  at  least  postponed.  This  was  the  still- 
room. 

Barbara  adored  cleanliness  and  sweet  smells.  The 
clean,  fragrant  place,  wherein  bundles  of  herbs  whose 
odours  spoke  to  her  of  :the  South,  and  of  strange 
lands,  and  of  longed-for,  half-forgotten  dreams,  and 
of  desires  which  she  could  not  understand,  was  to  her 
a  temple  of  enchanting  mysteries. 

Now  Mistress  Mehitable  was  a  cunning  distiller 
of  the  waters  of  bergamot,  rosemary,  mint,  thyme, 
and  egrimony;  but  Barbara  developed  a  subtlety 
in  the  combining  of  herbs  and  simples  which  resulted 
in  perfumes  hitherto  unknown.  One  essence,  indeed, 
which  she  compounded,  proved  so  penetrating,  last- 
ing, and  exquisite,  that  her  aunt,  in  a  burst  of  staid 
enthusiasm,  suggested  that  she  should  name  it  and 
write  down  the  formula  for  security.     This  was 


68  Barbara  Ladd 


done,  to  Barbara's  great  pride;  and  thereafter  the 
"  Water  of  Maryland  Memories  "  became  the  proper 
thing  to  use  in  Second  Westings.  Nothing,  per- 
haps, did  more  to  make  Barbara  a  personage  in  the 
township  than  this  highly  approved  "  Water  of 
Maryland  Memories." 

In  this  way  the  days  passed,  so  that  at  times  Mis- 
tress Mehitable  had  hopes  that  the  child  was  going 
to  assimilate  herself,  and  cease  to  pine  for  her  plan- 
tation in  the  South.  In  reality,  the  rebellion  in  Bar- 
bara's soul  but  grew  the  stronger  as  her  nature 
deepened  and  matured.  Throughout  her  second 
spring  at  Second  Westings,  —  when  the  mounting 
sap  set  her  veins  athrill  in  unison,  and  she  saw  the 
violets  come  back  to  the  greening  meadows,  the 
quaker-ladies  and  the  windflowers  to  the  little  glades 
of  the  wood ;  and  the  wild  ducks  returned  from  the 
south  to  nest  by  the  lake,  and  the  blackbirds  chirred 
again  in  the  swaying  tops  of  the  pine-trees,  —  her 
spirit  chafed  more  fiercely  at  every  bar.  The  mad- 
dest rides  over  upland  field  and  pasture  lot  at  dawn, 
the  fiercest  paddlings  up  and  down  the  lake  when 
the  wind  was  driving  and  the  chop  sea  tried  her  skill, 
were  insufficient  vent  to  her  restlessness.  Her 
thoughts  kept  reverting,  in  spite  of  herself,  to  the 
idea  of  seeking  her  uncle.  Misunderstandings  with 
Mistress  Mehitable  grew  more  frequent  and  more 
perilous.    But  just  as  she  was  beginning  to  feel  that 


Barbara  Ladd  69 


something  desperate  must  happen  at  once,  there  came 
to  her  a  responsibility  which  for  a  time  diverted  her 
thoughts. 

The  kitchen  cat  presented  the  household  with  four 
kittens.  Having  a  well-grounded  suspicion  that  kit- 
tens were  a  superfluity  in  Second  Westings,  the 
mother  hid  her  furry  miracles  in  the  recesses  of  a 
loft  in  the  barn.  Not  until  their  eyes  were  well  open 
were  they  discovered ;  and  it  was  Barbara  who  dis- 
covered them.  With  joyous  indiscretion,  all  un- 
dreaming of  the  consequences,  she  proclaimed  her 
discovery  in  the  house.  Then  the  customary  stern 
decree  went  forth  —  but  in  this  case  tempered  with 
fractional  mercy,  seeing  that  Mistress  Mehitable  was 
a  just  woman.  One  was  spared  to  console  the 
mother,  and  three  were  doomed  to  death. 

Barbara,  all  undreaming  of  the  decree,  chanced 
to  come  upon  Amos  in  the  cow-shed,  standing  over 
a  tub  of  water.  She  saw  him  drop  a  kitten  into  the 
tub,  and  pick  up  the  next.  She  heard  the  faint  mew- 
ing of  the  victims.  For  one  instant  her  heart  stood 
still  with  pain  and  fury.  Then,  speechless,  but  with 
face  and  eyes  ablaze,  she  swooped  down  and  sprang 
upon  him  with  such  impetuous  violence  that,  bending 
over  as  he  was,  he  lost  his  balance  and  sprawled 
headlong,  upsetting  the  tub  as  he  fell.  As  the  flood 
went  all  abroad,  sousing  Amos  effectually,  Barbara 
snatched  up  the  dripping  and  struggling  mewer, 


JO  Barbara  Ladd 

clutched  it  to  her  bosom,  seized  the  basket  containing 
the  other  two,  burst  into  wild  tears,  fled  to  the  house, 
and  shut  herself  into  her  room  with  her  treasures. 
Straightway  realising,  however,  that  they  would  not 
be  safe  even  there,  she  darted  forth  again,  defying 
her  aunt's  efforts  to  stop  her,  ran  to  the  woods,  and 
hid  them  in  the  secret  hollow  of  an  old  tree.  Know- 
ing that  Amos  would  never  have  committed  the 
enormity  at  his  own  instance,  she  hastened  to  make 
her  peace  with  him,  —  which  was  easy,  Amos  being 
at  heart  her  slave,  —  with  a  view  to  getting  plenty 
of  milk  for  the  tiny  prisoners ;  but  against  Mistress 
Mehitable  her  wrath  burned  hotly.  She  stayed  out 
till  long  past  supper,  and  crept  to  bed  without  speak- 
ing to  any  one  —  hungry  save  for  warm  milk 
supplied  by  Amos. 

This  was  an  open  subversion  of  authority,  and 
Mistress  Mehitable  was  moved.  In  the  morning 
she  demanded  the  surrender  of  the  kittens.  Barbara 
fiercely  refused.  Then  discipline  was  threatened  — 
a  whipping,  perhaps,  since  duty  must  be  done,  how- 
ever hard  —  or  imprisonment  in  her  room  for  a 
week.  Barbara  had  a  vision  of  the  kittens  slowly 
starving  in  their  hollow  tree,  and  her  face  set  itself 
in  a  way  that  gave  Mistress  Mehitable  pause,  sug- 
gesting tragedies.  The  next  moment  Barbara  rushed 
from  the  room,  flew  bareheaded  down  the  street, 
burst  into  Doctor  Jim's  office,  and  announced  that 


Barbara  Ladd  71 


she  would  kill  herself  rather  than  go  back  to  her 
Aunt  Hitty.  Past  events  precluding  the  possibility 
of  this  being  disregarded  as  an  idle  threat,  it  was  per- 
force taken  seriously.  Doctor  John  was  summoned. 
The  situation  was  thrashed  out  in  all  its  bearings; 
and  finally,  while  Barbara  curled  herself  up  in  a  tired 
heap  on  the  lounge  and  went  to  sleep,  her  two  cham- 
pions went  to  confer  with  Mistress  Mehitable.  Hard 
in  this  case  was  the  task,  for  the  little  lady  considered 
a  principle  at  stake ;  but  they  came  back  at  last  tri- 
umphant. Barbara  was  to  be  allowed  to  retain  the 
kittens,  on  the  pledge  that  she  would  keep  them  from 
becoming  in  any  way  a  nuisance  to  the  rest  of  the 
house,  and  that  she  would,  as  soon  as  possible,  find 
homes  elsewhere  for  at  least  two  of  them.  This 
last  condition  might  have  troubled  her,  but  that  Doc- 
tor John  and  Doctor  Jim  both  winked  as  they  an- 
nounced it,  which  she  properly  interpreted  to  mean 
that  they,  being  catless  and  mouse-ridden,  would 
help  her. 

So  Barbara  went  back  to  Aunt  Hitty  —  who  re- 
ceived her  gravely;  and  the  kittens  came  back  from 
their  hollow  tree ;  and  the  shock  of  clashing  spheres 
was  averted.  But  the  peace  was  a  hollow  and  pre- 
carious one  —  an  armistice,  rather  than  a  peace.  For 
about  a  week  Barbara's  heart  and  hands  were  pretty 
well  occupied  by  her  little  charges,  and  Mistress 
Mehitable  found  her  conciliatory.    But  one  day  there 


72  Barbara  Ladd 


came  a  letter  from  Uncle  Bob,  accompanied  by  a  box 
which  contained  macaroons  and  marchpanes,  candied 
angelica,  a  brooch  of  garnets,  and  a  piece  of  watchet- 
blue  paduasoy  sufficient  to  make  Barbara  a  dress. 
The  letter  announced  that  Uncle  Bob  was  at  Bridge- 
port, and  about  to  sojourn  for  a  time  at  the  adjoining 
village  of  Stratford.  Why,  Stratford  was  in  Con- 
necticut—  it  could  not  be  very  far  from  Second 
Westings!  Barbara's  heart  throbbed  with  excite- 
ment. The  very  next  day  she  made  excuse  to  visit 
Lawyer  Parley,  and  consult  a  map  of  the  Connec- 
ticut colony  which  she  had  once  observed  in  his 
office.  She  noted  the  way  the  rivers  ran  —  and  her 
heart  beat  more  wildly  than  ever.  Just  at  this  point 
conscience  awoke.  She  put  the  dangerous  thought 
away  vehemently,  and  for  a  whole  week  was  most 
studious  to  please.  But  Mistress  Mehitable  was  still 
austere,  still  troubled  in  her  heart  as  to  whether  she 
had  done  right  about  the  kittens.  One  morning  just 
after  breakfast  Barbara  was  set  to  hemming  a  fine 
linen  napkin,  at  a  time  when  she  was  in  haste  to  be 
at  something  else  more  interesting.  She  scamped  the 
uncongenial  task  —  in  very  truth,  the  stitches  were 
shocking.  Hence  came  an  unpleasantness.  Barbara 
was  sent  to  her  room  to  meditate  for  an  hour.  She 
was  now  all  on  fire  with  revolt.  Escape  seemed 
within  reach.     She  meditated  to  such  purpose  that 


Barbara  Ladd  73 


when  her  hour  was  past  she  came  forth  smiling, 
and  went  about  her  affairs  with  gay  diligence. 

It  was  on  the  following  morning  that,  when  the 
first  pallor  of  dawn  touched  the  tree-tops,  she  climbed 
out  of  the  window,  down  the  apple-tree,  and  fled 
with  her  bundle  and  her  kittens. 


CHAPTER   VII. 

After  her  breakfast  at  old  Debby's,  Barbara 
urged  forward  her  canoe  with  keen  exhilaration. 
Now  was  she  really  free,  really  advanced  in  her  great 
adventure.  A  load  of  anxiety  was  lifted  from  her 
mind.  She  had  succeeded  in  arranging  so  that  the 
letter  would  be  delivered  to  her  aunt  —  a  matter 
which  had  been  fretting  at  her  conscience.  More- 
over, old  Debby  had  shown  no  surprise  or  disap- 
proval on  hearing  of  her  rash  venture.  It  nettled 
Barbara,  indeed,  to  have  so  heroic  an  enterprise 
taken  so  lightly;  but  she  augured  therefrom  that  it 
was  more  feasible  than  she  had  dared  to  hope,  and 
already  she  saw  herself  installed  as  mistress  of  Uncle 
Bob's  home  in  Stratford. 

"He'll  love  us,  my  babies !"  she  cried  to  the  kittens 
in  the  basket,  and  forthwith  plied  her  paddle  so 
feverishly  that  in  a  few  minutes  she  had  to  stop  and 
take  breath. 

The  river  at  this  point  wound  through  low  mead- 
ows, sparsely  treed  with  the  towering,  majestic 
water  poplar,  sycamore,  and  arching  elm,  with  here 
and  there  a  graceful  river  birch  leaning  pensively 

74 


Barbara  Ladd  75 

to  contemplate  its  reflection  in  the  stream.  The  trees 
and  flowers  were  personal  to  Barbara,  her  quick 
senses  differentiating  them  unerringly.  The  low 
meadow,  swampy  in  spots,  was  a  mass  of  herbs, 
shrubs,  and  rank  grasses,  for  the  most  part  now  in 
full  flower;  and  the  sun  was  busy  distilling  from 
them  all  their  perfumes,  which  came  to  Barbara's 
nostrils  in  warm,  fitful,  varying  puffs.  She  noted  the 
tenderly  flushing  feathery  masses  of  meadowsweet, 
which  she  could  never  quite  forgive  for  its  lack  of 
the  perfume  promised  by  its  name.  From  the  dry 
knolls  came  the  heavy  scent  of  the  tall,  bold  umbels 
of  the  wild  parsnip,  at  which  she  sniffed  with  passing 
resentment.  Another  breath  of  wind,  and  a  turn 
of  the  stream  into  a  somewhat  less  open  neighbour- 
hood, brought  her  a  sweet  and  well-loved  savour, 
and  she  half  rose  in  her  place  to  greet  the  presence 
of  a  thicket  of  swamp  honeysuckle.  She  noted,  as 
she  went,  pale  crimson  colonies  of  the  swamp  rose, 
hummed  over  softly  by  the  bees  and  flies.  Purple 
Jacob's-ladder  draped  the  bushes  luxuriantly,  with 
wild  clematis  in  lavish  banks,  and  aerial  stretches  of 
the  roseate  monkey-flower  on  its  almost  invisible 
stems.  Her  heart  went  out  to  a  cluster  of  scented 
snakemouth  under  the  rim  of  the  bank.  She  was 
about  to  turn  her  prow  shoreward  and  gather  the 
modest  pinkish  blossoms  for  their  enchanting  fra- 
grance, when  she  observed  leaning  above  them  her 


j6  Barbara  Ladd 

mortal  enemy  among  the  tree-folk,  the  virulent  poi- 
son sumac.  She  swerved  sharply  to  the  other  side 
of  the  stream  to  avoid  its  hostile  exhalations. 

The  little  river  now  widened  out  and  became  still 
more  sluggish.  A  narrow  meadow  island  in  mid- 
stream intoxicated  Barbara's  eyes  with  colour,  being 
fringed  with  rank  on  rank  of  purple  flag-flower,  and 
its  grassy  heart  flame-spotted  with  the  blooms  of  the 
wild  lily.  The  still  water  along  the  shores  was 
crowded  with  floating-heart,  and  pale-blossomed 
arrowhead,  and  blue,  rank  pickerel-weed ;  and  Bar- 
bara, who  did  not  mind  the  heat,  but  revelled  in  the 
carnival  of  colour,  drew  a  deep  breath  and  declared 
to  herself  (giving  the  flat  lie  to  ten  thousand  former 
assertions  of  the  like  intimacy)  that  the  world  was  a 
beautiful  place  to  live  in.  No  sooner  had  she  said 
it  than  her  heart  sank  under  a  flood  of  bitter  mem- 
ories. She  seemed  once  more  to  feel  the  water  sing- 
ing in  her  ears,  to  see  its  golden  blur  filling  her  eyes, 
as  on  that  morning  when  she  lay  drowning  in  the 
lake.  The  glory  of  the  summer  day  lost  something 
of  its  brightness,  and  she  paddled  on  doggedly, 
looking  neither  to  the  right  hand  nor  to  the  left. 

But  this  was  a  mood  that  could  not  long  hold 
dominion  over  Barbara's  spirit  on  this  day  of  days, 
when  she  wras  journeying  to  freedom.  It  took  no 
more  than  the  scarlet  flash  of  a  tanager  across  her 
bow,  thfc  flapping  of  a  startled  brood  of  ducks  from 


Barbara  Ladd  77 


their  covert  in  the  sedge,  to  lure  her  back  to  gladness 
and  the  seeing  eye.  At  last  the  river  carried  her  into 
quite  different  surroundings.  Still  slow,  and  smooth, 
and  deep,  it  entered  the  neighbourhood  of  great  trees 
growing  close,  the  ancient  and  unviolated  forest.  The 
day  grew  cool  and  solemn,  the  diffused  light  floating 
hushed  under  the  great  arches  of  brown  and  gray 
and  green.  By  contrast  it  seemed  dark,  but  the  air 
was  of  a  wonderful  transparency,  and  Barbara's 
eyes,  opening  wide  in  delicious  awe,  saw  everything 
more  distinctly  than  in  the  open.  She  whispered  to 
the  yellow  birch,  the  paper  birch,  the  beech,  the 
maple,  and  the  chestnut,  each  by  name  lovingly,  as 
she  slipped  past  their  soaring  trunks,  knowing  them 
by  the  texture  and  the  features  of  their  bark  though 
their  leaves  hung  far  overhead.  Her  paddle  dipped 
without  noise,  lest  the  mysteries  of  the  forest  conclave 
should  be  disturbed  by  her  intrusion.  So  keen  and 
so  initiated  were  her  young  eyes  that  she  discerned 
the  sleeping  nighthawk  on  his  branch,  where  his 
likeness  to  a  knotted  excrescence  of  the  bark  made 
him  feel  secure  from  the  most  discriminating  vision. 
Passing  a  dead  pine  with  a  small,  neatly  rounded 
hole  about  ten  feet  up  the  trunk,  she  heard,  or 
thought  she  heard,  the  safe  conferring  of  the  nest 
full  of  young  woodpeckers  in  its  hollow  depth  — 
which,  indeed,  was  probably  but  the  stirring  of  hef 
own  blood-currents  within  her  over-attentive  little 


j8  Barbara  Ladd 


ears.  Suddenly  the  vast  stillness  appeared  to  close 
down  upon  her,  not  with  oppression,  but  with  a  calm 
that  was  half  fearful,  half  delicious ;  and  it  seemed 
as  if  the  fever  of  her  veins  was  being  slowly  drawn 
away.  The  mystic  shores  slipped  by  with  speed, 
though  she  hardly  knew  she  was  paddling.  And 
when,  suddenly,  a  great  brown  owl  dropped  from  a 
beech  limb  and  went  winnowing  soundlessly  down 
the  stream  ahead  of  her,  she  caught  her  breath, 
feeling  as  if  the  soul  of  the  silence  had  taken  palpable 
shape  before  her  eyes. 

Now,  as  it  seemed  to  Barbara,  life  and  movement 
began  to  appear,  at  the  summons  of  those  shadowy 
wings.  A  little  troop  of  pale-winged  moths  drifted,, 
circling  lightly,  over  the  stream;  and  a  fly-catcher, 
with  thin,  cheeping  cries,  dropped  some  twenty  feet 
straight  downward  from  an  overhanging  limb,  flut- 
tered and  zigzagged  for  a  moment  in  mid-air,  cap- 
turing some  small  insect  darters  which  Barbara  could 
not  see,  then  shot  back  into  the  leafage.  Then  upon 
a  massive,  sloping  maple-branch  close  to  the  bank, 
she  saw  a  stocky  black-and-white  shape  slowly 
crawling.  The  head  was  small  and  flattened,  the 
bright  little  eyes  glittered  upon  her  in  defiance,  and 
a  formidable  ridge  of  pointed  quills  erected  itself 
angrily  along  the  back.  The  animal  uttered  a  low, 
squeaking  grunt,  and  Barbara,  with  prompt  discre- 
tion, steered  as  close  as  possible  to  the  opposite  bank, 


Barbara  Ladd  79 


glancing  apprehensively  over  her  shoulder  as  she 
passed.  She  was  strongly  inclined  to  like  the  porcu- 
pine; but  his  ill-temper  was  manifest,  and  she  had 
faith  in  the  superstition  that  he  could  shoot  his 
needle-like  quills  to  a  distance  and  pierce  the  object 
of  his  dislike.  Barbara  could  not  contemplate  the 
possibility  of  appearing  before  her  uncle  like  a  pin- 
cushion, stuck  full  of  porcupine  quills. 

Barely  had  she  left  the  resentful  porcupine  behind, 
safely  out  of  quill-flinging  distance,  when  she  ob- 
served a  small,  ruddy  head  cleaving  the  water  in 
mid-channel.  A  pair  of  prominent  eyes  met  hers 
apprehensively.  Two  smooth  ripples  curved  away 
from  the  throat  of  the  small  swimmer.  It  was  a 
red  squirrel  whom  unwonted  affairs  had  summoned 
to  the  other  side  of  the  river.  Whatever  the  affairs, 
Barbara  wras  determined  to  expedite  them  as  far 
as  she  could.  Overtaking  the  swimmer  with  a  couple 
of  smart  strokes,  she  politely  held  out  to  him  the 
blade  of  the  paddle.  The  invitation  was  not  to  be 
resisted.  With  a  scramble  and  a  leap  he  came 
aboard,  skipped  along  the  gunwale,  and  perched  him- 
self, jaunty  and  chipper  for  all  his  bedragglement  of 
tail,  on  the  extreme  tip  of  the  bow.  There  he 
twitched  and  chattered  eagerly,  while  Barbara 
headed  toward  the  shore  where  he  would  be.  While 
he  was  yet  a  wide  space  distant  from  it,  he  sprang 
into  the  air.     Barbara  held  her  breath  —  but  the 


8o  Barbara  Ladd 


little  traveller  knew  his  powers.  He  landed  safely 
on  a  projecting  root,  flicked  off  behind  a  tree,  and 
was  gone.  In  a  few  seconds  there  came  echoing 
from  a  tree-top  far  back  in  the  shadows  a  loud,  shrill 
chattering,  which  Barbara  took  for  an  expression  of 
either  gratitude  or  impudence.  Caring  not  which  it 
was,  she  smiled  indulgently  and  paddled  on. 

And  now  to  her  sensitive  nostrils  there  came  sud- 
denly an  elusive  wafture  of  wintergreen,  and  she 
looked  around  for  the  gray  birch  whose  message 
she  recognised.  The  homely,  familiar  smell  re- 
claimed her  from  her  mood  of  exaltation,  and  she 
realised  that  she  was  hungry.  Just  ahead  was  a 
grassy  glade,  whereinto  the  sun  streamed  broadly. 
She  saw  that  it  was  far  past  noon.  With  a  leap  of 
the  heart  she  realised  that  she  must  be  nearing  the 
point  where  the  stream  would  join  the  great  river 
which  was  to  bear  her,  her  kittens,  and  her  fortunes, 
down  to  the  sea  and  Uncle  Bob.  Yes,  she  recognised 
this  same  open  glade,  with  the  giant  willow  project- 
ing over  the  water  at  its  farther  end.  She  and  Uncle 
Bob  had  both  remarked  upon  its  fairy  beauty  as  they 
passed  it  going  and  coming,  when  they  had  explored 
the  stream.  She  had  but  two  or  three  miles  farther 
to  go,  and  her  paddle  would  greet  the  waters  of  the 
great  river.  This  was  fitting  place  to  halt  and  renew 
her  strength. 

Pulling  up  the  prow  of  the  canoe  upon  a  tuft  of 


Barbara  Ladd  8 1 


sedge,  she  took  out  the  basket  and  the  bundle.  From 
the  heart  of  the  bundle  she  drew  a  small  leather  bag, 
containing  barley  cakes,  gingerbread,  a  tiny  parcel 
of  cold  meat  done  up  in  oiled  paper,  a  wooden  saucer, 
and  a  little  wooden  bottle  which  she  had  filled  with 
fresh  milk  at  old  Debby's.  Having  poured  some  of 
the  milk  into  the  saucer,  and  laid  three  or  four  shreds 
of  the  meat  around  its  edges,  she  released  the  kittens 
from  their  basket.  For  two  or  three  minutes,  glad 
of  freedom,  the  fat,  furry  things  frisked  and 
stretched  and  tumbled  hither  and  thither,  while  Bar- 
bara kept  watch  upon  them  with  solicitous  eyes.  But 
soon  they  grew  afraid  of  the  great  spaces  and  the 
woods,  being  accustomed  to  an  environment  more 
straitened.  They  came  back  mewing  to  Barbara's 
feet,  and  she  turned  their  attention  to  their  dinner. 
While  they  lapped  the  milk,  and  daintily  chewed  the 
unaccustomed  meat,  she  dined  heartily  but  abstract- 
edly on  the  barley  cakes  and  gingerbread.  Then, 
having  satisfied  her  thirst  by  lying  flat  on  the  wet, 
grassy  brink  of  the  stream  and  lowering  her  lips 
to  the  water,  she  decided  to  rest  a  few  minutes  before 
resuming  her  voyage.  Close  by  was  a  beech-tree, 
around  whose  trunk  the  moss  looked  tempting. 
Seating  herself  with  her  back  against  the  tree,  and 
the  kittens  curled  up  in  her  lap,  she  looked  out  dream- 
ily over  the  hot  grasses  —  and  presently  fell  asleep. 
She  had  slept  perhaps  half  an  hour  when  a  crow, 


82  Barbara  Ladd 


alighting  on  a  low  branch  some  half  score  paces  dis- 
tant, peered  into  the  shade  of  the  beech-tree  and  dis- 
covered the  sweet  picture.  To  him  it  was  not  sweet  in 
the  least,  but  indubitably  interesting.  "  Cah  —  ah !  " 
he  exclaimed  loudly,  hopping  up  and  down  in  his 
astonishment.  The  sharp  voice  awoke  Barbara,  and 
she  rubbed  her  eyes. 

"  Gracious !  "  she  exclaimed  to  the  kittens,  "  what 
sleepyheads  we  are!  Come,  come,  we  must  hurry 
up,  or  we'll  never  get  to  Uncle  Bob !  " 

Before  she  was  really  well  awake,  the  kittens  were 
in  the  basket,  the  canoe  was  loaded  and  shoved  off, 
and  the  adventurers  were  once  more  afloat  upon  their 
quest.  Then  only  did  Barbara  give  herself  time  to 
stretch  and  rub  her  eyes.  After  a  few  strokes  she  let 
the  canoe  drift  with  the  current,  while  she  laid  down 
the  paddle,  and  cooled  her  wrists  and  refreshed  her 
face  with  handfuls  of  water. 

As  she  straightened  her  brave  little  shoulders 
again  to  her  labour,  she  was  arrested  by  a  strange 
sound  as  of  the  ripping  of  bark.  It  was  an  ominous 
kind  of  noise  in  the  lonely  stillness,  and  apprehen- 
sively she  peered  in  the  direction  whence  it  came. 
Then  she  grew  afraid.  On  the  other  shore,  about 
a  couple  of  rods  back  from  the  water,  she  saw  a  large 
black  bear  sitting  upon  its  haunches  beside  a  fallen 
and  rotten  tree.  As  she  stared,  wide-eyed  and  trem- 
bling, he  lifted  his  great  paw  and  laid  hold  of  the 


Barbara  Ladd  S3 


dead  bark.  Again  came  the  ripping,  tearing  noise, 
and  off  peeled  a  huge  brown  slab.  To  the  exposed 
surface  he  applied  a  nimble  tongue  —  and  Barbara's 
terror  subsided.  She  saw  that  he  was  quite  too 
absorbed  in  the  delights  of  an  ant-log  to  pay  any 
attention  to  a  mere  girl;  and  she  remembered,  too, 
that  the  black  bear  was  a  rather  inoffensive  soul  so 
long  as  he  was  not  treated  contumeliously.  For  all 
this,  however,  she  made  as  much  haste  from  the 
spot  as  was  consistent  with  a  noiseless  paddle  —  and 
kept  furtive  watch  over  her  shoulder  until  she  haa 
put  a  good  half-mile  between  the  canoe  and  the  ant- 
log. 

By  the  time  her  concern  about  the  bear  had  begun 
to  flag  she  found  that  the  current  was  quickening  its 
pace.  The  trees  slipped  by  more  swiftly,  and  the 
shores  grew  bolder.  A  mellow,  roaring  clamour  came 
to  her  ears,  and  with  delicious  trepidation  she  remem- 
bered a  little  rapid  through  which  she  must  pass. 
Around  a  turn  of  the  stream  it  came  into  view,  its 
small  waves  sparkling  where  the  forest  gave  back 
and  admitted  the  afternoon  sun.  Her  experience  in 
running  rapids  had  been  slight,  but  she  remembered 
the  course  which  Uncle  Bob  had  taken,  between  two 
large  rocks  where  the  water  ran  deep  and  smooth; 
and  she  called  to  mind,  the  further  to  brace  her  confi- 
dence, that  Uncle  Bob  had  stigmatised  this  particular 
rapid  as  mere  child's  play.    Her  heart  beat  rather 


84  Barbara  Ladd 


wildly  as  she  entered  the  broken  water,  and  the  cur- 
rents gripped  her,  and  the  banks  began  to  flee  upward 
past  her  view.  But  her  eye  held  true  and  her  wrist 
firm.  The  clamour  filled  her  ears,  but  she  laid  her 
course  with  precision  and  fetched  the  very  centre 
of  the  channel  between  the  big  rocks.  From  that 
point  all  was  clear.  The  canoe  went  racing  through 
the  last  ripple,  which  splashed  her  lightly  as  she 
passed ;  and  in  a  reach  of  quiet  water,  foam-flecked 
and  shining,  she  drew  a  deep  breath  of  triumph. 
This,  indeed,  was  to  live.  Never  had  she  expe- 
rienced a  keener  consciousness  of  power.  She  felt 
her  enterprise  already  successful.  The  ancient 
woods,  with  their  bears,  their  porcupines,  their  wide- 
winged  brown  owls,  lay  behind  her.  Second  West- 
ings was  incalculably  far  away.  There  in  plain  view, 
rising  over  its  comfortable  orchard  trees,  not  half  a 
mile  distant,  were  the  roofs  and  chimneys  of  Gault 
House,  overlooking,  as  she  had  heard,  the  waters  of 
the  great  river.  And  beyond  the  next  turn,  as  she 
thought  with  a  thrill,  she  would  see  the  great  river 
itself. 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

Barbara  rounded  the  next  turn.  There  before 
her,  widely  gleaming,  spread  the  waters  of  the  great 
river  itself.  She  cried  out  in  her  joy,  and  paddled 
madly  —  then  paused,  abashed,  perceiving  that  she 
was  the  object  of  a  critical  but  frankly  admiring 
scrutiny.  Her  attention  was  diverted  from  the  great 
river.  Here  was  a  tall  boy  —  of  her  own  caste  un- 
mistakably—  poling  himself  out  on  a  precarious 
little  raft  to  meet  her.  Her  flush  of  confusion  passed 
as  quickly  as  it  had  come,  and  laying  her  paddle 
across  the  gunwale,  she  waited  with  interest  to  dis- 
cover what  he  might  have  to  say. 

Barbara  had  met  but  few  boys  of  her  own  class, 
and  those  few  had  seemed,  under  her  merciless  analy- 
sis, uniformly  uninteresting.  Their  salient  charac- 
teristics, to  her  mind,  were  freckles,  rudeness, 
ignorance,  and  a  disposition  to  tease  cats.  But  this 
youth  was  obviously  different.  Apparently  about 
seventeen  years  of  age,  he  was  tall  and  graceful,  and 
the  way  the  clumsy  log-raft  on  which  he  stood  surged 
forward  under  the  thrusts  of  his  pole  revealed  his 
strength.     Barbara  loved  strength,  so  long  as  deli- 

8.S 


86  Barbara  Ladd 


cacy  saved  it  from  coarseness.  The  boy  was  in  his 
shirt  sleeves,  which  were  of  spotless  cambric,  and 
Barbara  noted,  with  approbation,  the  ample  ruffles 
turned  back,  for  convenience,  from  his  sinewy  brown 
hands.  She  observed  that  his  brown,  long-fronted, 
flowered  vest  was  of  silk,  and  his  lighter  brown 
small-clothes  of  a  fine  cloth  worn  only  by  the  gentry ; 
that  his  stockings  were  of  black  silk,  and  his  shoes, 
drenched  most  of  the  time  in  the  water  that  lapped 
over  the  raft,  were  adorned  with  large  buckles  of 
silver.  She  admired  the  formal  fashion  in  which  his 
black  hair  was  tied  back  in  a  small  and  very  precise 
queue.  But  most  of  all  she  liked  his  face,  which 
was  even  darker  than  her  own  —  lean,  somewhat 
square  in  the  jaw,  with  a  broad  forehead,  and  gray- 
blue,  thoughtful  eyes,  set  wide  apart. 

Now,  Barbara's  fearless  scorn  of  conventions  was 
equalled  only  by  her  ignorance  of  them.  This  boy 
pleased  her,  so  why  should  she  hesitate  to  show  it? 
When  the  raft  ranged  up  alongside  the  canoe,  she 
laid  hold  upon  it  for  anchorage  and  the  greater  con- 
venience in  conversation,  and  flashed  upon  the 
stranger  the  full  dazzle  of  her  scarlet  lips,  white 
teeth,  and  bewildering  radiance  of  green  eyes.  The 
boy  straightened  himself  from  the  pole  in  order  to 
bow  with  the  more  ceremony  —  which  he  accom- 
plished to  Barbara's  complete  satisfaction  in  spite  of 
the  unsteadiness  of  the  raft. 


s    f 


4  -v  ■■■• 


-J* 


"What  a  nice-looking  boy  you  arc!"  she  said. 


Barbara  Ladd  87 


"What  a  nice-looking  boy  you  are!"  she  said, 
frankly  condescending.    "  What  is  your  name?  " 

"  Robert  Gault,  your  very  humble  servant !  "  he 
replied,  bowing  again,  and  smiling.  The  smile  was 
altogether  to  Barbara's  fancy,  and  showed  even, 
strong,  wThite  teeth,  another  most  uncommon  merit 
in  a  boy.  "  And  I  am  sure,"  he  went  on,  "  that  this 
is  Mistress  Barbara  Ladd  whom  I  have  the  honour  to 
address." 

"  Why,  how  do  you  know  me?  "  exclaimed  Bar- 
bara, highly  pleased.  Then,  quickly  apprehensive, 
she  added,  "  What  makes  you  think  I  am  Barbara 
Ladd?" 

The  boy  noted  the  change  in  her  countenance,  and 
wondered  at  it.    But  he  replied  at  once : 

"  Of  course  the  name  of  Mistress  Barbara  Ladd, 
and  her  daring,  and  her  canoe-craft,  and  her  beauty  " 
(this  he  added  out  of  his  own  instant  conviction), 
"  have  spread  far  down  the  river.  When  I  came  up 
here  the  other  day  to  visit  my  grandmother  "  (he 
indicated  slightly  the  distant  roofs  of  Gault  House), 
"  I  came  with  a  great  hope  of  being  permitted  to 
meet  you !  " 

Evidently  he  knew  nothing  of  her  flight.  Her 
uneasiness  vanished.  But  she  had  never  had  a  com- 
pliment before  —  a  personal  compliment,  such  as  is 
dear  to  every  wise  feminine  heart  —  and  that  word 
"  beauty  "  was  most  melodious  to  her  ears.     As  a 


88  Barbara  Ladd 


matter  of  fact,  she  did  not  herself  admire  her  own 
appearance  at  all,  and  even  had  an  aversion  to  the 
mirror  —  but  it  occurred  to  her  now,  for  the  first 
time,  that  this  was  a  point  upon  which  it  was  not 
needful  that  every  one  should  agree  with  her.  It 
was  practically  her  first  real  lesson  in  tolerance 
toward  an  opinion  that  differed  from  her  own. 

"  I'll  warrant  you  heard  no  good  of  that  same 
Barbara  Ladd,  more's  the  pity!"  she  answered, 
coquettishly  tossing  her  dark  little  head  and  shooting 
at  him  a  distracting  sidelong  glance  from  narrowed 
lids.  "  Anyhow,  if  you  are  Lady  Gault's  grandson, 
I  am  most  happy  to  meet  you." 

She  stretched  out  to  him  her  brown  little  hand, 
just  now  none  too  immaculate,  indeed,  but  with 
breeding  stamped  on  every  slim  line  of  it,  and  elo- 
quent from  the  polished,  well-trimmed,  long,  oval 
nails.  Instantly,  careless  of  the  water  and  his  fine 
cloth  breeches,  Robert  went  down  upon  one  knee  and 
gallantly  kissed  the  proffered  hand. 

Barbara  was  just  at  an  age  when,  for  girls  with 
Southern  blood  in  their  veins,  womanhood  and  child- 
hood lie  so  close  entwined  in  their  personalities  that 
it  is  impossible  to  disentangle  the  golden  and  the 
silver  threads.  Never  before  had  any  one  kissed 
her  hand.  She  was  surprised  at  the  pleasant  thrill 
it  gave  her ;  and  she  was  surprised,  too,  at  her  sud- 
den, inexplicable  impulse  to  draw  the  hand  away. 


Barbara  Ladd  89 


It  was  a  silly  impulse,  she  told  herself;  so  she  con- 
trolled it,  and  accepted  the  kiss  with  the  composure 
of  a  damsel  well  used  to  such  ceremonious  homage. 
But  she  did  not  like  such  a  nice  boy  to  be  kneeling  in 
the  water. 

"  Why  did  you  come  out  on  that  rickety  thing?  " 
she  asked.    "  Why  haven't  you  a  boat  or  a  canoe?  " 

"  This  was  the  only  thing  within  reach,"  he  ex- 
plained, respectfully  relinquishing  her  hand.  "  I 
saw  you  coming;  and  I  knew  it  must  be  you,  be- 
cause no  other  girl  could  handle  a  canoe  so  beauti- 
fully; and  I  was  afraid  of  losing  you  if  I  waited." 

"  That  was  civil  of  you.  But  aren't  you  getting 
very  wet  there?    Won't  you  come  into  the  canoe?  " 

"  Really?  "  he  exclaimed,  lifting  his  chin  with  a 
quick  gesture  of  eagerness.  "  Are  you  going  to  be 
so  good  to  me?  Then  I  must  push  this  old  raft 
ashore  first  and  secure  it.  I  don't  know  whom  it 
belongs  to." 

As  he  poled  to  land  in  too  much  haste  for  any 
further  conversation,  Barbara  paddled  silently  along- 
side and  admired  his  skill.  When  the  raft  was  tied 
up,  and  the  pole  tossed  into  the  bushes,  he  took  his 
place  in  the  bow  and  knelt  so  as  to  face  her. 

"  You  must  turn  the  other  way,"  laughed  Barbara. 

"  No,  I  was  proposing,  by  your  leave,  to  make 
this  the  stern,  and  ask  you  to  let  me  paddle,"  he 
answered.     "Won't  you  let  me?     You  really  look 


go  Barbara  Ladd 


a  little  bit  tired,  and  I  want  you  to  talk  to  me,  if  you 
will  be  so  condescending.  How  can  I  turn  my  back 
to  you?  " 

"  I  am  not  the  least,  leastest  bit  tired,"  protested 
Barbara,  a  little  doubtfully.  "  But  I  don't  mind 
letting  you  paddle  for  awhile,  if  you'll  paddle  hard 
and  go  the  way  I  want  you  to."  And  with  that  she 
seated  herself  flat  on  the  bottom  of  the  canoe,  with 
an  air  of  relief  that  rather  contradicted  her  protesta- 
tion. 

The  boy  laughed,  as  he  turned  the  canoe  with 
powerful,  sweeping  strokes. 

"  Surely  I  will  paddle  hard,  and  in  whatsoever 
direction  you  command  me.  Am  I  not  the  most 
obedient  of  your  slaves  ?  " 

This  pleased  Barbara.  She  loved  slaves.  She 
accepted  his  servitude  at  once  and  fully. 

"  Paddle  straight  out  into  the  river,  and  then 
down !  "  she  commanded. 

At  the  imperious  note  in  her  voice,  the  boy  looked 
both  amused  and  pleased.  Obeying  without  a  word 
of  question,  he  sent  the  canoe  leaping  forward  under 
his  deep,  rhythmical  strokes  at  a  speed  that  filled 
Barbara  with  admiration. 

"  Oh,  how  strong  you  are  and  how  well  you  pad- 
dle!" she  cried,  her  eyes  wide  and  sparkling,  her 
lips  parted,  the  crisp,  rebellious  curls  blowing  about 
her  face.     Never  had  Robert  seen  so  bewitching  a 


Barbara  Ladd  91 


picture  as  this  small  figure  curled  up  happily  in  the 
bow  of  the  canoe,  her  little  shoes  of  red  leather  and 
her  black-stockinged  ankles  sticking  out  demurely 
from  under  her  short  blue  striped  skirt,  her  nut- 
brown,  slender,  finely  modelled  arms  emerging  from 
short  loose  sleeves.  He  was  proud  of  her  praise. 
He  was  partly  engrossed  in  displaying  his  skill  and 
strength  to  the  very  best  advantage.  But  above  all 
he  was  thinking  of  this  picture,  which  was  destined 
to  flash  back  into  his  memory  many  a  time  in  after 
days,  with  a  poignancy  of  vividness  that  affected 
his  action  like  a  summons  or  an  appeal. 

In  a  few  minutes  the  canoe  was  fairly  out  upon  the 
bosom  of  the  main  stream,  and  headed  downward 
with  the  strongly  flowing  current.  Barbara  clasped 
her  hands  with  a  movement  which  expressed  such 
rapture  and  relief  that  the  boy's  curiosity  was  ex- 
cited. He  began  to  feel  that  there  was  some  mys- 
tery in  the  affair.  Slackening  his  pace  ever  so 
slightly,  he  remarked : 

"  I  suppose  you  are  staying  with  friends  some- 
where in  this  neighbourhood.  How  fortunate  I  am 
—  that  is,  if  you  will  graciously  permit  me  to  go 
canoeing  with  you  often  while  you  are  here." 

But  even  as  he  spoke,  his  eyes  took  in,  for  the 
first  time,  the  significance  of  the  bundle  and  the 
basket,  which  he  had  been  so  far  too  occupied  to 
notice.    His  wonder  came  forward  and  spoke  plainly 


92  Barbara  Ladd 


from  his  frank  eyes,  and  Barbara  was  at  a  loss  to 
explain. 

"  No,"  she  said,  "  I  am  not  staying  anywhere  in 
this  neighbourhood.  I  don't  know  a  soul  in  this 
neighbourhood  but  you." 

"  Then  —  you've  come  right  from  Second  West- 
ings !  "  he  exclaimed. 

"  Right  from  Second  Westings." 

"  All  that  distance  since  this  morning?  "  he  per- 
sisted. 

She  nodded  impatiently. 

"  Through  those  woods  —  through  the  rapids  — 
all  alone?" 

"  Yes,  all  alone !  "  she  answered,  a  little  crisply. 
She  was  annoyed. 

In  his  astonishment  he  laid  down  his  paddle  and 
leaned  forward,  scanning  her  face. 

"  But  —  "  said  he,  embarrassed,  "  forgive  me!  I 
know  it  is  none  of  my  business,  —  but  what  does  it 
mean  ?  " 

"  Go  on  paddling,"  commanded  Barbara.  "  Did 
you  not  promise  you  would  obey  me  ?  /  know  what 
it  means !  "  And  she  laughed,  half  maliciously.  The 
boy  looked  worried,  —  and  it  was  great  fun  to  bring 
that  worried  look  to  his  face. 

He  resumed  his  paddling,  though  much  less  vig- 
orously, while  she  evaded  his  gaze,  and  a  wilful 
smile  clung  about  her  lips.    The  current  was  swift, 


Barbara  Ladd  93 


and  they  had  soon  left  the  imposing-  white  columns 
of  Gault  House  far  behind.  A  tremendous  sense 
of  responsibility  came  over  the  boy,  and  again  he 
stopped  paddling. 

"  Oh,  perhaps  you  are  tired !  "  suggested  Bar- 
bara, coolly.  "  Give  me  the  paddle,  and  I'll  set  you 
ashore  right  here/' 

"  I  said  just  now  it  was  none  of  my  business,"  said 
he,  gravely,  appealingly,  "  but,  do  you  know,  I 
think  perhaps  it  ought  to  be  my  business !  I  ought 
to  ask !  " 

He  retained  the  paddle,  but  turned  the  canoe's 
head  up-stream  and  held  it  steady. 

"What  do  you  mean?"  demanded  Barbara,  an- 
grily.   "  Give  me  the  paddle  at  once !  " 

Still  he  made  no  motion  to  obey. 

"  Do  you  realise,"  he  asked,  "  that  it's  now  near 
sundown,  —  that  it  will  take  till  dark  to  work  back 
against  the  current  to  where  I  met  you, — that  there's 
no  place  near  here  where  a  lady  can  rest  for  the 
night  —  " 

"  I  don't  care,"  interrupted  Barbara  hotly,  ready 
to  cry  with  anger  and  anxiety;  "  I'm  going  to  travel 
all  night.  I'm  going  to  the  sea  —  to  my  uncle  at 
Stratford!  I  just  don't  want  you  to  interfere.  Let 
me  put  you  ashore  at  once !  " 

Robert  was  struck  dumb  with  amazement.  To  the 
sea!    This  small  girl,  all  alone!    And  evidently  quite 


94  Barbara  Ladd 


unacquainted  with  the  perils  of  the  river.  It  was 
superb  pluck,  —  but  it  was  wild,  impossible  folly. 
He  did  not  know  what  to  do.  He  turned  the  canoe 
toward  shore,  and  presently  found  himself  in  quieter 
water,  out  of  the  current. 

Observing  his  ready  obedience,  Barbara  was  molli- 
fied; but  at  the  same  time  she  was  conscious  of  a 
sinking  of  the  heart  because  he  was  going  to  leave 
her  alone,  when  it  would  soon  be  dark.  She  had 
not  considered,  hitherto,  this  necessity  of  travelling 
in  the  dark.  She  made  up  her  mind  to  tell  the  nice 
boy  everything,  and  get  him  to  advise  her  as  to  where 
she  could  stay  for  the  night. 

"  I'm  running  away,  you  know,  Master  Gault," 
she  said,  sweetly,  as  if  it  were  the  most  ordinary 
thing  in  the  world. 

"  Are  you  at  all  acquainted  with  the  river?  "  he 
asked,  gently,  without  a  trace  of  resentment  for  the 
way  she  had  spoken  to  him  a  moment  before. 

"  No !  "  confessed  Barbara,  in  a  very  small  voice, 
deprecatingly. 

"  A  few  miles  farther  down  there  is  a  stretch  of 
very  bad  water,"  said  the  boy.  "  Clever  canoeist  as 
you  are,  you  would  find  it  hard  enough  work  going 
through  in  broad  daylight.  At  night  you  would  just 
be  dashed  to  pieces  in  a  minute." 

"  Oh,  what  shall  I  do?  "  cried  Barbara,  the  perils 


Barbara  Ladd  95 

of  her  adventure  just  beginning  to  touch  her  imag- 
ination. 

"  Let  me  take  you  to  my  grandmother's,"  he 
pleaded.  "  And  we  will  paddle  back  to  Second 
Westings  to-morrow." 

Barbara  burst  into  a  storm  of  tears. 

"  Never!  never!  never!  "  she  sobbed.  "  I'll  die  in 
the  rapids  before  I'll  ever  go  back  to  Aunt  Hitty! 
Oh,  why  did  I  like  you  ?  Why  did  I  trust  you  ?  Oh, 
I  don't  know  what  to  do !  " 

The  boy's  heart  came  into  his  throat  and  ached  at 
the  sight  of  her  trouble.  He  longed  desperately  to 
help  her.  He  had  a  wild  impulse  to  swear  that  he 
would  follow  her  and  protect  her,  wherever  she 
wanted  to  go,  however  impossible  her  undertaking. 
Instead  of  that,  however,  he  kept  silence  and  paddled 
forward  resolutely  for  two  or  three  minutes,  while 
Barbara,  her  face  buried  in  her  hands,  shook  with 
sobs.  At  last  he  ran  the  canoe  into  a  shadowy  cove, 
where  lily  leaves  floated  on  the  unruffled  water.  Then 
he  laid  down  his  paddle. 

"Tell  me  all  about  it,  won't  you,  please?"  he 
petitioned.  "  I  do  want  so  much  to  help  you.  And 
perhaps  I  can.  And  you  shall  not  be  sorry  for 
trusting  me!  " 

How  very  comforting  his  voice  was !  So  tender, 
and  kind,  and  with  a  faithful  ring  in  its  tenderness. 
Barbara  suffered  it  to  comfort  her.    Surely  he  would 


96  Barbara  Ladd 


understand,  if  old  Debby  could !  In  a  few  moments 
she  lifted  her  wet  little  face,  flashed  a  smile  at  him 
through  her  tears,  and  said : 

"  How  good  and  kind  you  are !  Forgive  me  if 
I  was  bad  to  you.  Yes,  I'll  tell  you  all  about  it,  and 
then  you.  can  see  for  yourself  why  I  had  to  come 
away." 

Barbara's  exposition  was  vivid  and  convincing. 
Her  emotion,  her  utter  sincerity,  fused  everything, 
and  she  had  the  gift  of  the  telling  phrase.  What 
wonder  if  the  serious,  idealistic,  chivalrous  boy,  upon 
whose  nerves  her  fire  and  her  alien,  elusive  beauty 
thrilled  like  wizard  music,  saw  all  the  situation 
through  her  eyes.  Her  faults  were  invisible  to  him 
ere  he  had  listened  a  minute  to  her  narrative.  She 
was  right  to  run  away.  The  venture,  of  course,  was 
a  mad  one,  but  with  his  help  it  might  well  be  carried 
through  to  success.  As  she  talked  on,  an  intoxication 
of  enthusiasm  and  sympathy  tingled  along  his  blood 
and  rose  to  his  brain.  Difficulties  vanished,  or  dis- 
played themselves  to  his  deluded  imagination  only 
as  obstacles  which  it  would  be  splendid  to  over- 
come. In  the  ordinary  affairs  of  life  the  boy  was 
cool,  judicious,  reasonable,  to  a  degree  immeasurably 
beyond  his  years ;  but  Barbara's  strange  magnetism 
had  called  forth  the  dreamer  and  the  poet  lurking  at 
the  foundations  of  his  character ;  and  his  judgment, 
for  the  time,  was  overwhelmed.     When  Barbara's 


Barbara  Ladcl  97 


piercing  eloquence  ceased,  and  she  paused  breathless, 
eyes  wide  and  lips  parted  in  expectation,  he  said, 
solemnly : 

"  I  will  help  you!  To  the  utmost  of  my  power  I 
will  help  you !  " 

The  words  had  the  weight  and  significance  of  a 
consecration. 

Barbara  clapped  her  hands. 

"  Oh!  "  she  cried,  "  How  can  I  ever  thank  you  for 
being  so  lovely  to  me?  But  I  knew  you  were  nice 
the  moment  I  looked  at  you !  "  And  a  load  rolled 
off  her  mind.  With  such  a  helper,  already  was  her 
enterprise  accomplished. 

"  I  will  try  hard  to  be  worthy  of  your  favour," 
said  Robert.,  with  deep  gravity,  feeling  that  now  in- 
deed was  boyhood  put  away  and  full  manhood 
descended  upon  his  shoulders.  His  brain  was  racked 
with  the  terrific  problem  of  finding  Barbara  fit  lodg- 
ing for  the  night;  but  meantime  he  turned  the 
canoe  and  paddled  swiftly  out  into  the  current. 
Hardly  had  he  changed  his  course  when  he  noticed 
a  light  rowboat  creeping  up  along  the  shore.  But 
boats  were  no  unusual  sight  on  the  river,  and  he  paid 
no  heed  to  it.  As  for  Barbara,  she  wras  so  absorbed 
in  watching  his  great  strokes,  and  in  thinking  how 
delightful  it  was  to  have  found  such  an  ally,  that  the 
sound  of  the  oars  passed  her  ears  unheeded,  and  she 
did  not  turn  her  head. 


CHAPTER    IX. 

At  length,  however,  the  boy  noticed  with  a  tinge 
of  surprise  that  the  boat  was  steering  as  if  to  inter- 
cept his  course.  He  was  about  to  pass  greeting  to 
its  occupants  when  something  in  the  face  of  the  big 
man  sitting  in  the  stern  arrested  his  words.  At  the 
same  moment  the  sound  of  the  oars  caught  Barbara's 
attention,  and  she  turned  her  head. 

"  Oh !  "  she  cried,  shrilly.  "  Doctor  Jim !  —  and 
Doctor  John!  "  she  added,  as  one  of  the  two  rowers 
looked  around  and  grinned  at  her  in  humourous 
triumph.  Then,  her  visions  of  life  at  Stratford  with 
Uncle  Bob  falling  to  ruin  about  her,  she  wept  aloud 
in  her  disappointment. 

Robert  understood,  and  quick  as  thought  swerved 
in  his  course,  making  a  dart  for  the  swifter  water  of 
mid-channel.    His  heart  swelled  with  exultation. 

"  They  can't  catch  us !  "  he  declared  to  Barbara. 

"  Stop !  you  young  rascal !  "  thundered  the  mighty 
voice  of  Doctor  Jim.  "  I  know  you,  Bobby  Gault. 
Don't  I  know  your  father's  son  ?    Stop  this  instant !  " 

"Quit  this  tomfoolery,  Bobby!"  roared  Doctor 
John,  albeit  a  little  breathless  from  his  labour.    Bar- 


Barbara  Ladd  99 


bara  lifted  her  face  and  stared  through  her  tears. 
But  the  boy  paid  no  heed,  paddling  mightily,  and  the 
distance  between  boat  and  canoe  was  surely  widen- 
ing. 

But  Doctor  Jim  knew  Barbara. 

"  Very  well !  "  he  said,  grimly,  in  a  loud  voice. 
"  I'm  sorry  to  do  bodily  hurt  to  the  son  of  my  old 
friend  Richard,  but  it  can't  be  helped." 

He  drew  a  long-barrelled  pistol  from  under  the 
flap  of  his  green  coat. 

"  I'll  have  to  wing  you,  my  boy!  "  he  said,  taking 
careful  aim,  while  one  eyelid  quivered  in  the  direc- 
tion of  Doctor  John. 

The  boy's  face  paled  a  little,  but  his  jaw  set  firmly, 
and  he  kept  right  on. 

"  Stop!  stop!  stop!  "  screamed  Barbara,  but  with 
no  result.  She  half  arose  in  the  canoe,  glancing  with 
horror  from  the  boy's  resolute  face  to  the  muzzle  of 
the  pistol. 

"If  you  don't  stop,  Robert,  I  will  throw  myself 
overboard  this  minute !  "  she  vowed. 

The  terror  in  her  face  convinced  him.  He  sullenly 
drew  in  his  paddle,  laid  it  down  in  the  canoe,  folded 
his  arms,  and  looked  of!  over  the  western  hills,  as 
if  scornful  of  all  that  might  take  place. 

In  a  few  seconds  the  boat  came  up  alongside  of 
the  drifting  canoe,  the  oars  were  drawn  in,  and 
strong  hands  laid  hold  upon  the  gunwale.     There 


IOO  Barbara  Ladd 


were  some  awful  moments  of  silence,  broken  only  by 
Barbara's  sobbing  and  the  splashing  of  waves 
on  the  boat  and  the  canoe.  The  owner  of  the  boat, 
a  gaunt  farmer  from  Westings  Landing,  a  few  miks 
down  the  river,  who  had  not  been  initiated  into  the 
mystery,  looked  on  in  discreet  astonishment.  This 
was  indeed  a  strange  situation  in  which  to  see  the 
grandson  of  Lady  Gault.  At  last  Barbara,  to  whom 
suspense  was  hideous,  broke  out. 

"  Oh,  do  say  something !  "  she  wailed.  Indeed, 
neither  Doctor  John  nor  Doctor  Jim  knew  just  what 
to  say.  They  were  embarrassed.  But  the  child  was 
right.  Somebody  had  to  say  something.  By  inter- 
change of  quick  glances  the  lot  fell  to  Doctor  John. 

"  Well,  this  is  pretty  gallivanting,  running  away 
with  a  young  man,  —  carrying  him  off  in  your  aunt's 
canoe!  "  said  Doctor  John. 

Barbara's  eyes  opened  very  wide. 

"  I  never!  "  she  cried,  indignantly. 

"  As  for  you,  Bobby  Gault,"  interposed  Doctor 
Jim,  severely,  and  in  a  tone  that  made  Robert  feel 
himself  hatefully  young,  "  I  cannot  comprehend  how 
you  should  come  to  be  mixed  up  in  this  affair.  I 
know  well  what  my  friend,  Richard  Gault,  your 
lamented  father,  with  his  nice  notions  of  honour, 
would  have  thought  of  such  an  escapade."  (Robert's 
father  and  mother  had  died  within  a  few  days  of 
each  other,  by  an  epidemic  of  typhus,  when  the  boy 


Barbara  Lackl  ici 


was  only  five  years  old.)  "  But  I  shall  lay  the  matter 
before  your  good  grandmother,  and  your  uncle,  who 
will  doubtless  deal  with  you  as  you  deserve." 

Robert  shut  his  lips  tight  and  eyed  the  speaker 
proudly;  but  Barbara  made  reply  in  her  vehement 
way. 

"  It  is  not  Robert's  fault  at  all,  I  tell  you,  Doctor 
Jim !  "  she  cried,  forgetting  that  she  had  said  nothing 
whatever  on  the  subject.  "  I  just  met  him,  an  hour 
or  two  ago,  on  an  old  raft ;  and  he  knew  who  I  was ; 
and  because  he  was  getting  his  feet  wet  on  the  raft, 
I  invited  him  to  get  into  the  canoe ;  and  I  made  him 
promise  to  paddle  me  just  wherever  I  wanted  to  go. 
So  there !  And  it  is  not  his  fault  one  bit !  And  you 
may  do  what  you  like  to  me,  but  I  won't  have  him 
punished  when  he  has  not  done  anything  at  all !  " 

Doctor  John  tried  to  look  quite  grave ;  and  Doctor 
Jim,  who  was  really  annoyed,  succeeded. 

"Oh,  ho!  young  man!"  he  remarked,  sarcastic- 
ally, "  it  appears  that  you  have  a  champion.  Now, 
what  have  you  to  say  for  yourself  ?  " 

"  Mistress  Barbara  has  neglected  to  add,"  said  he, 
with  all  the  dignity  that  he  could  assume,  "  that  I 
insisted  upon  her  narrating  to  me  all  the  unhappy 
circumstances  of  her  life  in  Second  Westings.  The 
story  commanded  my  fullest  sympathy,  and  I  had 
just  given  her  my  word  that  I  would  aid  her  in 
escaping  to  her  uncle,  Mr.   Glenowen,  where  she 


IG2  Barbara  Ladd 

would  be  happy,  when  you  came  and  violently  in- 
terfered with  her  purpose.  I  ask  you,  sir,  to  con- 
sider. Are  you  not  ashamed  to  be  instrumental  in 
restoring  a  young  lady  to  conditions  where  she  has 
been  made  to  suffer  so  cruelly?  " 

In  spite  of  his  indignation,  Robert  could  not  help 
feeling  proud  of  this  effort.  In  his  own  ears  it 
sounded  imposing,  unanswerable,  and  altogether 
grown  up.  Barbara  thought  it  was  a  miracle  of 
eloquence,  and  cast  him  a  grateful  look.  But  Doctor 
John  could  not  conceal  his  delight  in  the  stilted 
periods.  He  burst  into  a  huge  guffaw,  at  which  Bar- 
bara's eyes  snapped  and  Robert's  dark  skin  reddened 
angrily.     But  Doctor  Jim  exclaimed,  hotly : 

"  Hoity-toity !  How  big  we  do  feel !  To  think 
how  often  I  dandled  you  on  my  knee  when  you  were 
a  mewling  baby.  If  I  had  but  known  enough  to 
spank  you  once  in  awhile,  you  might  not  have  grown 
up  to  be  such  a  priggish  young  coxcomb.  Richard's 
son!    Who  would  have  thought  it?    Eh,  what?  " 

Meanwhile  the  boat  and  canoe  were  drifting 
rapidly  down-stream.  Doctor  John  looked  at  the  sun, 
now  touching  the  horizon. 

"  Don't  you  think,  Master  Gault,"  said  he,  drily, 
"  that  unless  you  propose  to  honour  us  with  your 
company  to  Second  Westings,  we  had  better  set  you 
ashore  hereabouts,  that  you  may  stretch  your  legs 
in  the  direction  of  Gault  House?  " 


Barbara   Ladd  103 


"Thank  you!"  said  Robert,  stiffly,  his  heart 
bursting  with  humiliation  and  the  longing-  to  strangle 
his  huge,  supercilious  antagonist.  But  Barbara  in- 
terrupted. 

"I'm  not  going  back  to  Second  Westings !  "  she 
declared  obstinately,  trying  hard  to  set  her  full  red 
lips  together  in  the  resolute  way  that  Robert's  had. 
"  I  will  never  go  back  to  live  with  Aunt  Hitty.  I'll 
drown  myself  first.  I'm  going  to  Uncle  Bob,  at 
Stratford." 

The  threat,  once  so  effective,  seemed  now  to  have 
lost  its  potency.  Xo  one  appeared  impressed  but 
Robert,  —  and  perhaps  the  stranger-man  who  owned 
the  boat. 

"  My  dear  child,"  said  Doctor  John,  eying  her 
indulgently,  "  among  the  more  or  less  serious  obsta- 
cles to  your  plan  is  one  of  which  I  believe  that  even 
you  will  see  the  magnitude.  Mr.  Glenowen  is  no 
longer  at  Stratford." 

"  Uncle  Bob  not  at  Stratford? "  wailed  Barbara, 
overwhelmed,  subjugated  in  an  instant.  Robert 
started  aghast. 

Doctor  John  paused  dramatically,  while  the  full 
effect  of  the  news  worked  upon  his  victims  in  the 
canoe.    Then  he  said,  coolly  : 

"  Mr.  Glenowen  is  just  now  at  Hartford,  or  has 
lately  left  that  town.  Mistress  Ladd  had  a  letter  from 
him  to-day,  saying  he  expected  to  arrive  at  Second 


104  Barbara  Ladd 

Westings  not  later  than  the  end  of  next  week,  I 
think,  moreover,  that  I  saw  a  packet  on  the  mantel- 
shelf addressed  to  Mistress  Barbara  Ladd !  " 

With  one  bound  Barbara's  heart  passed  from 
despair  to  ecstasy.  Everything  else  was  forgotten. 
She  was  as  eager  now  to  get  back  to  Second  West- 
ings as  she  had  been  to  escape  from  it.  All  she  knew 
or  cared  for  was  that  Uncle  Bob  would  be  there. 
He  would  make  everything  right.  Her  face  was  all 
radiance,  as  it  turned  to  Doctor  John,  then  to  Doctor 
Jim,  then  to  Robert,  —  who  eyed  her  gloomily, 
feeling  himself  now  cast  out  into  the  cold.  But  in 
tier  joy  Barbara  did  not  forget  him  after  all. 

"  Just  think,  Robert,"  she  cried,  "  Uncle  Bob  so 
iiear,  and  we  would  have  missed  him  if  Doctor  John 
and  Doctor  Jim,  the  dears,  had  not  come  and  caught 
us.  They  are  always  angels  to  me,  you  know.  Now 
w£  will  put  you  ashore  right  here.  And  you  must  be 
sur6  to  come  over  to>  Second  Westings  and  see  me,  — 
won't  you  ?  —  while  Uncle  Bob  is  there.  Come  next 
week." 

"  I  thank  you  for  the  gracious  invitation,"  an- 
swered the  boy,  bowing  a  little  stiffly.  "  But  I  think 
I  had  better  wait  for  Mr.  Glenowen's  permission,  as 
these  gentlemen  are  not  likely  to  present  me  to  him 
in  a  very  favourable  light." 

"  Don't  be  silly  and  disagreeable,  Robert,"  said 
Barbara,  impatiently.     "  Uncle  Bob  will  think  of 


Barbara  Ladd  105 


you  just  as  I  do.  We  always  agree  about  people. 
Now  you  must  hurry !  " 

"  I  think,  however,"  persisted  Robert,  "  I  ought 
to  wait  for  Mr.  Glenowen's  invitation." 

"  Right,  my  lad !  "  exclaimed  Doctor  Jim,  much 
mollified  by  this  attitude.  "  That's  my  old  friend 
Richard's  son  speaking  now.  And  I  doubt  not  that 
our  little  mistress  here  will  see  to  it  that  the  invita- 
tion is  forthcoming  in  good  season,  —  eh,  what?  " 

There  was  a  doubtful  expression  on  Barbara's 
face,  over  the  lack  of  instantaneous  obedience  to  her 
will  on  the  part  of  her  champion;  but  Robert,  en- 
couraged by  Doctor  Jim's  commendation,  now  made 
a  bold  proposal. 

"  If  you  would  be  so  kind,  sir/'  he  suggested, 
diffidently,  "  I  should  like  to  go  down  with  you  to 
the  Landing,  where  I  can  lodge  very  well  for  the 
night  at  the  house  of  an  old  servant  of  my  grand- 
mother's. It  will  be  a  long  and  difficult  tramp  for 
me  up  the  shore  now,  in  the  dark,  and  with  no  road 
through  the  woods.  By  going  with  you  to  the  Land- 
ing I  might  be  of  some  service,  to  paddle  the  canoe. 
She  will  be  an  awkward  craft  to  tow;  and  Mistress 
Barbara  is  very  tired,  I  perceive." 

"  Sly  young  dog!  "  growled  Doctor  John.  "  But, 
seeing  that  he  is  Richard's  son,  we'll  have  to  take 
him  along  with  us  as  far  as  the  Landing,  eh,  Jim?  " 

"  Let  him  work  his  passage,  then !  "  roared  Doctor 


106  Barbara  Ladd 

Jim.  "  Let  him  paddle  the  canoe,  and  Barbara,  and 
her  kittens,  and  all  her  contraptions,  —  and  we'll  see 
about  not  being  too  hard  on  him  when  we  come  to 
tell  his  grandmother !  " 

This  arrangement  was  highly  satisfactory  to  all 
concerned.  The  gloom  fell  from  Robert's  face,  and 
his  month  grew  boyish  and  happy  as  he  paddled  on 
in  musing  silence.  He  kept  the  canoe  alongside  of 
the  boat,  just  out  of  reach  of  the  oars,  so  that  Bar- 
bara could  talk  conveniently  with  Doctor  John  and 
Doctor  Jim,  which  she  did  in  the  most  usual  manner 
in  the  world,  as  if  nothing  out  of  the  ordinary  had 
happened.  But  presently,  upon  a  lull  in  the  con- 
versation came  the  voice  of  Robert,  who  had  been 
thinking  about  Barbara's  life  at  Second  Westings. 

"  Is  not  Mistress  Ladd  a  very  harsh,  tyrannical 
sort  of  woman  ?  "  he  inquired,  solicitously. 

There  was  a  huge  roar  from  Doctor  Jim,  which 
made  even  Barbara  jump,  inured  though  she  was  to 
these  explosions. 

"  I'd  have  you  remember,  young  sir,  that  you  are 
speaking  of  the  gentlest,  sweetest,  truest,  most  gra- 
cious lady  that  ever  lived,  for  whose  little  shoes 
you  are  not  worthy  to  sweep  the  ground !  " 

Robert  stared  in  confusion,  too  astonished  to  be 
at  once  ready  with  an  apology.  Before  he  could 
gather  his  wits,  Doctor  John  spoke  up,  more  gently. 
He  was  no  less  loyal  a  champion  to  Mistress  Mehit- 


Barbara  Ladd  107 


able  than  was  Doctor  Jim,  but  with  him  his  humour 
was  ever  at  hand  to  assuage  his  wrath.  Subduing 
his  great  tones  to  a  quizzical  and  confidential  half- 
whisper,  that  feigned  itself  not  meant  for  Barbara's 
ears,  he  said,  amiably  : 

"  My  son,  when  you  come  to  know  well  this  little 
firebrand  of  ours,  whom  we  have  just  plucked  from 
a  watery  burning,  this  sower  of  dissension  in  our 
good  village  of  Second  Westings,  I  doubt  not  that 
you  will  spare  a  moiety  of  your  sympathies  for  that 
very  noble  lady,  Mistress  Ladd.  In  truth,  for  all  her 
tears  and  anxiety  on  this  mad  little  maid's  account, 
I  have  a  misgiving  that  we  are  doing  the  sweet  lady 
no  great  kindness  in  taking  Mistress  Barbara  back 
to  her.  A  pretty  gallant  you  are,  to  undertake  to 
carry  a  lady  off,  and  then  make  a  mess  of  it,  and 
leave  her  embarrassed  friends  to  straighten  out  the 
snarl!" 

Under  this  daunting  blend  of  rebuke  and  raillery, 
Robert  fell  into  a  deeper  confusion.  He  floundered 
through  a  few  awkward  phrases  of  deprecation  and 
apology,  but  Barbara  cut  in  upon  his  struggles  with- 
out mercy.  The  gibes  of  Doctor  John  troubled  her 
not  a  whit,  but  one  thing  which  he  had  said  captured 
her  interest. 

"  Did  Aunt  Hitty  really  cry  when  she  found  I 
had  gone  away?  Did  she  really  feel  so  badly  about 
it  ?    I  thought  she  would  be  rather  glad !  " 


Io8  Barbara  Ladd 

"  She  was  in  great  grief,  bitter  grief,  Barbara, 
Do  you  think  no  one  has  feelings  but  yourself?" 
answered  Doctor  Jim,  with  some  severity. 

This  pertinent  question  Barbara  ignored.  She 
turned  to  Robert. 

"  You  must  understand,  Robert,"  she  explained 
with  care,  "  that  Aunt  Hitty  is  not  really  cruel  to 
me,  —  at  least  she  never  intends  to  be.  But  she 
and  I  do  not  understand  each  other,  and  so  we  can't 
get  on !  " 

"  You  will  simply  have  to  learn  some  of  the  rudi- 
ments of  obedience  and  self-control,  Barbara,"  said 
Doctor  Jim.  Never  had  he  spoken  to  her  so  severely 
before,  and  she  was  amazed.  But  she  saw  that  this 
time  she  had  gone  very  near  to  forfeiting  the  sym- 
pathy of  her  most  faithful  allies.  Perhaps,  after 
all,  she  was  in  the  wrong  to  run  away.  The  sus- 
picion only  made  her  the  more  obstinate. 

"  I  don't  think  one  ought  to  obey  any  one,  ex- 
cept one's  father  and  mother,"  she  proclaimed  re- 
belliously.  "  One's  father  and  mother,  if  they  are 
good,  and  wise,  and  kind,"  she  added,  still  further 
enlarging  her  freedom. 

"  And  the  king !  "  added  Robert,  sententiously. 
He  flung  out  the  word  as  a  shibboleth. 

There  was  a  moment  of  silence.  Barbara  darted 
upon  him  a  glance  of  petulant  disappointment. 
Doctor  John  laughed  hugely.     But  as  for  Doctor 


Barbara  Ladd  1 09 


Jim,  his  face  underwent  a  swift  change,  as  he 
scanned  the  boy  with  new  interest. 

"  Well  said,  well  said ;  spoken  as  Richard's  boy 
should  speak,  as  a  Gault  should  ever  speak  ! "  he 
thundered,  in  high  approval.  "  I  am  sorry  if  I 
seemed  abrupt  a  moment  ago,  Robert.  Pardon  my 
quick  temper.  I  see  your  heart  is  in  the  right  place, 
and  you  have  not  let  them  stuff  your  head  with 
pestilent  and  plebeian  heresies.  Yes,  yes,  you  must 
certainly  come  to  Second  Westings.  I  shall  be  hon- 
oured if  my  old  friend's  son  will  be  my  guest !  " 

From  that  moment  dated  a  friendship  between 
Robert  and  Doctor  Jim  which  no  after  vicissitude 
was  ever  able  to  disturb. 

But  Barbara  was  of  another  mind. 

"  King  George  is  just  a  stupid  old  tyrant,  and 
I  hate  him !  "  she  exclaimed.  "  I'm  sorry,  Robert, 
you  have  not  quite  so  much  sense  as  I  thought  you 
had.  I'm  really  disappointed  in  you.  But  there  are 
some  nice  Tories !  You  know  even  dear  Doctor  Jim 
is  a  Tory,  though  we  can't  see  why,  and  he's  just 
as  lovely  as  if  he  were  on  the  right  side.  So  you 
may  come  to  Second  Westings,  —  though  you  must 
promise  not  to  argue  with  me.  But  I  know,  Robert, 
I  sha'n't  like  you  now  so  well  as  I  thought  I  was 
going  to !  " 

"  Let  the  young  people  fight  it  out,  eh,  Jim  ?  " 
said  Doctor  John,  greatly  amused.    "  Let  them  fight 


HO  Barbara  Ladd 

it  out  between  them !  "  Then,  suddenly  grave,  he 
added,  "  God  grant  the  differences  now  distracting 
our  colonies  grow  not  beyond  the  point  of  children's 
quarrels!  " 

Doctor  Jim  shook  his  head  sorrowfully. 

"  There's  trouble  ahead,  John.  I  feel  it  coming. 
This  is  a  stiff-necked  and  disloyal  people,  and  I 
have  a  foreboding.  There's  a  sword  in  the  air, 
John!" 

"  It's  surely  a  stiff-necked  king,  Jim,"  muttered 
Doctor  John. 

"  The  sword  of  a  Gault  will  ever  leap  from  its 
scabbard  to  serve  the  king!"  said  Robert,  loftily, 
his  grave  eyes  aglow  with  exaltation. 

As  he  made  this  proclamation  of  his  faith,  de- 
voting himself  to  a  cause  of  which  she  disapproved, 
and  quite  ignoring  her  feelings  in  the  matter,  Bar- 
bara felt  a  sudden  pang  of  loneliness.  She  seemed 
forgotten,  or,  at  least,  grown  secondary  and  trivial. 

"  Do  let  us  hurry  home  to  Uncle  Bob!"  she 
pleaded,  her  voice  pathetic,  her  eyes  tired  and  dis- 
satisfied. 

Then  silence,  with  the  twilight,  descended  upon 
the  voyaging  company;  and  in  a  little  while,  com- 
ing noiselessly  to  the  landing-place,  they  stepped 
ashore  into  the  dewy,  sweet-smelling  weeds  and  the 
evening  peace. 


CHAPTER    X. 

A  green  lane,  little  used,  but  deeply  rutted,  led  up 
from  the  wharf  to  the  main  street  of  Westings 
Landing.  The  village  was  silent,  with  no  sign  of 
life,  except  here  and  there  a  glimmer  from  a  candle- 
lit window.  From  the  pale  sky  overhead  came  the 
strange  twang  of  swooping  night-hawks,  as  of  harp- 
strings  suddenly  but  firmly  plucked.  In  the  inter- 
vals between  these  irregular  and  always  unexpected 
notes  was  heard  the  persistent  rhythm  of  a  whip- 
poorwill,  softly  threshing  the  dusk  with  his  phantom 
song.  Barbara  felt  the  whole  scene  to  be  unreal, 
her  companions  unreal,  herself  most  unreal  of  all. 
Could  it  be  that  she  wras  the  girl  who  had  that  same 
morning  run  away,  that  same  morning  made  so 
brave  and  triumphant  a  start  upon  so  splendid  a 
venture?  Now,  somehow,  she  felt  rather  than  un- 
derstood the  folly  of  it.  The  fact  that  she  would 
have  missed  her  Uncle  Bob  if  she  had  succeeded  in 
her  plan  took  out  of  it  all  the  zest,  and  it  became  to 
her  a  very  ridiculous  plan  indeed.  But  her  change 
of  attitude  was  emotional  rather  than  intellectual. 
She  was  convinced  in  mood,  not  in  mind.    Only  she 

in 


112  Barbara  Ladd 

felt  herself  on  the  sudden  a  very  small,  tired  girl, 
who  deserved  to  be  punished,  and  wanted  to  go  to 
bed.  Her  conviction  of  childishness  was  heightened 
by  the  fact  that  Robert,  who  was  walking  just  ahead 
with  Doctor  Jim,  in  grave  discussion,  seemed  not 
only  to  have  suddenly  grown  up,  but  to  have  quite 
forgotten  her  once  imperious  but  now  discredited 
existence.  Her  exhaustion,  her  reaction,  her  defeat, 
her  disappointment  in  Robert,  these  all  at  once 
translated  themselves  into  a  sense  of  hopeless  loneli- 
ness. She  seized  the  large,  kind  hand  of  Doctor 
John,  who  walked  in  silence  by  her  side,  and  clung 
to  him. 

Presently  Doctor  John  felt  hot  tears  streaming 
copiously  down  his  fingers.  Without  a  word,  he 
snatched  her  up  into  his  arms,  carrying  her  as  if 
she  were  a  baby;  and  shaking  with  voiceless  sobs, 
she  buried  her  small,  wet  face  in  his  comforting 
neck.  She  felt  as  if  she  wanted  to  cry  wildly,  deli- 
riously, for  hours  and  hours.  But  she  managed  to 
remember  that  even  a  very  small  girl  may  be  heavy 
to  carry  over  a  rough  road  in  the  dusk,  when  the 
man  who  carries  her  has  had  a  hard  day's  work 
chasing  her.  And,  furthermore,  she  thought  how 
very,  very  little,  how  poor  and  pitiful  a  heroine  she 
would  seem  in  Robert's  eyes  if  he  should  chance  to 
remember  her  existence  and  look  back!     She  pulled 


Barbara  Ladd  113 


herself  together  with  a  fierce  effort,  and  choked 
down  her  sobs. 

"  Thank  you  so  much,  dear  Doctor  John !  "  she 
whispered  in  his  ear.  "  I'm  better  now,  and  you 
must  put  me  down.    I'm  too  heavy." 

"  Tut,  tut,  sweetheart!"  growled  Doctor  John, 
softly ;  "  you  bide  where  you  are,  and  rest.  You 
heavy!  " 

"  But,"  —  she  persisted,  with  a  little  earthward 
wriggle  to  show  she  meant  it,  —  "I  want  to  get 
down  now,  please!  I  don't  want  to  look  like  quite 
such  a  baby,  Doctor  John !  " 

"  Tut,  tut!"  but  he  set  her  down,  nevertheless, 
and  kept  comforting  hold  of  one  cold  little  hand. 
Doctor  John  was  quick  in  his  sympathetic  compre- 
hension of  women  and  children,  and  tolerant  of  what 
most  men  would  account  mere  whim.  In  a  moment 
he  leaned  down  close  to  her  ear,  and  whispered  : 

"  What  are  you  but  a  baby,  after  all,  —  a  tired 
out,  bad  baby,  sweetheart?  But  we'll  just  keep  that 
a  secret  between  you  and  me,  and  not  let  Jim  Pigeon 
or  Master  Robert  even  guess  at  it !  "  And  Barbara 
squeezed  his  hand  violently  in  both  of  hers  by  way 
of  answer. 

At  this  moment,  Doctor  Jim  and  Robert,  reaching 
the  corner  of  the  street,  turned  and  waited  for  them 
to  come  up.  Doctor  Jim  had  Barbara's  precious 
basket  of  kittens  on  his  arm,  while  Robert  was  carry- 


114  Barbara  Ladd 

ing  her  little  red  bundle,  which  he  now  handed  over 
to  Doctor  John.  A  certain  reluctance  with  which 
he  gave  it  up  was  quite  lost  upon  Barbara  in  her 
unwonted  humility  and  depression;  and  it  was  a 
very  white,  wistful  little  face  which  she  turned 
glimmeringly  upon  him  as  he  bowed  over  her  hand. 

"Why  are  you  leaving  us  here,  Robert?"  she 
asked,  in  a  small  voice,  most  unlike  the  wilful  tone 
with  which  she  had  talked  to  him  in  the  canoe. 

"  My  way  lies  down  the  street,  sweet  mistress," 
said  the  boy.  "  Your  horses,  Doctor  Jim  tells  me, 
are  waiting  for  you  at  the  Blue  Boar  yonder.  This 
has  been  a  wonderful  day  for  me.  When  you  think 
of  it,  will  you  try  to  remember  me  kindly  as  one 
who  would  ever  be  your  most  devoted,  humble 
servant?" 

Delighted  by  this  elaborate  courtesy,  so  rehabili- 
tating to  her  self-esteem,  Barbara  began  to  feel  her- 
self almost  herself  again.  She  thought,  with  a  sud- 
den prickling  heat  of  shame,  of  how  childish  she  had 
been  during"  all  the  past  year,  —  and  she  almost 
fifteen!  And  here  was  Robert,  who  was  certainly 
very  grown-up,  treating  her  with  a  deference  which 
he  would  never  dream  of  paying  to  a  mere  little 
girl !  She  resolved  to  justify  his  deference,  to  con- 
ceal her  pet  childishnesses  till  time  should  mature 
them  away ;  yet  even  as  she  registered  this  resolve, 
she  registered  a  vague  but  deeper  one,  that  she  would 


Barbara   Ladd  115 


cling  for  ever  to  every  childish  taste  and  pleasure 
in  spite  of  the  very  utmost  that  time  could  do.  But 
the  feeling  that  came  uppermost  and  found  expres- 
sion was  a  sharp  little  pang  at  something  in  his 
words  which  sounded  as  if  he  were  bidding  farewell 
for  a  long,  indefinite  time. 

"  But  I  shall  see  you  again  soon,  sha'n't  I, 
Robert?  "  she  exclaimed,  impulsively.  "  You'll  come 
over  to  Second  Westings  right  away,  won't  you,  and 
meet  Uncle  Bob?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  the  boy,  bowing  low  again,  and 
speaking  with  a  mixture  of  hesitation  and  triumph, 
"  I  am  promising  myself  that  pleasure,  Mistress  Bar- 
bara, within  a  very  few  days.  You  see  —  Doctor 
Jim  —  he  has  been  so  kind  —  " 

"  To  be  sure,"  broke  in  Doctor  Jim,  with  an  em- 
phasis to  preclude  any  discussion  of  consistency,  — 
"  I've  asked  the  lad  over  to  visit  us,  John.  Richard's 
son !  —  And  his  heart's  in  the  right  place,  —  and  his 
head,  too,  —  eh,  what  ?  We'll  see  that  Mistress 
Mehitable  is  not  too  hard  on  him,  —  eh,  what  ?  You 
know  you're  not  going  to  be  too  hard  on  the  boy 
yourself,  John  Pigeon,  for  all  you've  been  so  un- 
commonly unpleasant  to  him !  " 

Doctor  John  chuckled  softly,  and  squeezed  Bar- 
bara's left  hand,  which  he  had  retained  while  she 
was  receiving  Robert's  adieux. 

u  Tut,  tut,  Jim !     You  know  well  enough  we've 


Il6  Barbara  Ladd 


got  to  pardon  anything  in  breeches,  young  or  old, 
that  gets  led  into  mischief  by  this  little  limb  o'  dark- 
ness here.  It's  a  peck  of  trouble  she's  been  getting 
you  and  me  into,  time  and  time  again.  You  needn't 
make  excuses  for  Robert  to  me,  Jim  Pigeon.  At 
least,  not  yet !  " 

"  Thank  you,  sir,"  said  Robert,  a  little  stiffly,  not 
relishing  a  pleasantry  at  Barbara's  expense,  though 
Barbara  herself  had  broken  into  a  peal  of  gay  laugh- 
ter, flattered  at  Doctor  John's  implications,  and  com- 
forted to  know  that  Robert  was  not  slipping  beyond 
her  reach.  "  Thank  you,  indeed,  sir ;  but  I  have  no 
excuse ;  I  was  fully  committed  to  Mistress  Barbara's 
venture,  and  I'm  just  as  much  to  blame  as  she  is !  " 

Barbara's  heart  glowed.  This  was  the  kind  of 
unreasonable  championship  she  adored.  But  truth 
compelled  her  to  protest. 

"  Oh,  no,  no,  Robert,  not  at  all !  It  wasn't  you 
that  ran  away  from  Aunt  Hitty,  and  took  the  canoe, 
and  persuaded  a  nice,  civil  gentleman  whom  you'd 
never  seen  before  in  your  life  to  do  a  perfectly  crazy 
thing  like  you  read  of  in  story-books  —  "  But,  as 
she  paused  for  breath,  Doctor  Jim,  too  impatient  to 
be  amused,  interrupted  her : 

"  Well,  well,  Robert,  you  and  Barbara  can  settle 
all  that  between  you  some  other  time.  We  must  get 
away.    Good  night  —  good  night.    My  best  compli- 


Barbara   Ladd  1 1 7 


ments  to  your  honoured  grandmother!  And  ride 
over  the  first  day  you  can,  lad !  " 

And  Doctor  John,  shaking  his  head  sorrowfully, 
exclaimed : 

"  Tut,  tut,  tut !  How  small  a  petticoat  can  turn 
how  great  a  brain!  I  see  trouble  ahead  for  you, 
Bobby !  " 

"  I  shall  be  so  glad  to  see  you  at  my  aunt's, 
Robert !  "  cried  Barbara,  over  her  shoulder,  as  they 
moved  up  the  street  toward  the  Blue  Boar  and  the 
waiting  horses.  Robert,  standing  hat  in  hand,  gazed 
after  them  till  they  were  swallowed  up  in  the 
shadows.  Still  he  waited,  till  a  pulse  of  light  across 
the  gloom  and  the  sound  of  the  inn  door  closing  told 
him  that  he  was  alone  under  the  night.  Then,  sud- 
denly, he  became  conscious  of  the  lonely,  wonderful 
night  sounds,  and  suddenly  the  night  perfumes  sank 
into  his  heart.  The  spicy  breaths  from  the  clover 
field  and  blossoming  thicket,  cooled  with  dew,  gave 
him  a  strange  intoxication  as  he  drew  them  into  the 
depths  of  his  lungs.  The  pulsing  rhythm  of  the  whip- 
poorwill  seemed  to  time  itself  to  the  pulsing  of  his 
heart  and  translate  it  to  the  terms  of  an  impassioned, 
inarticulate  chant.  The  plucked  harp-strings  sound- 
ing from  time  to  time  in  the  hidden  heights  of  the 
sky  set  all  his  nerves  vibrating  mystically.  Walking 
as  if  in  a  dream,  he  came  to  the  door  of  the  cottage 
where  he  had  planned  to  stay  the  night.     Then  he 


Il8  Barbara  Ladd 

turned  on  a  swift  impulse,  hurried  back  to  the  land- 
ing, launched  Barbara's  canoe,  and,  without  con- 
sciousness of  weariness  or  hunger,  paddled  all  the 
way  back  to  Gault  House  against  the  current. 


CHAPTER   XL 

From  Second  Westings  that  morning,  after  old 
Debby's  alarm,  Doctor  John  and  Doctor  Jim  had 
came  posthaste  on  horseback  to  Westings  Landing. 
Now,  however,  it  was  found  that  Barbara  was  quite 
too  worn  out  by  the  fatigues  of  her  long,  strenuous 
day  to  sit  a  horse  for  a  ten  mile's  ride  over  rough 
roads  in  the  dark.  Priding  herself  not  less  on  her 
endurance  than  on  her  horsemanship,  she  vehemently 
repudiated  the  charge  that  she  was  done  up,  and 
was  determined  to  ride  back  on  the  liveliest  of  the 
Blue  Boar's  horses.  But  Doctor  John  and  Doctor 
Jim,  scanning  critically  her  white  face  and  the  dark 
rims  coming  about  her  eyes,  for  once  agreed  in  a 
professional  judgment.  They  ordered  the  horses 
hitched  to  the  roomy  old  chaise,  which  was  one  of 
the  landlord's  most  cherished  possessions ;  and  Bar- 
bara had  to  accept,  rebelliously  enough,  the  supine- 
ness  of  a  cushioned  seat  for  the  free  lift  and  swing 
of  the  saddle.  Before  the  lighted  doorway  of  the 
inn  was  out  of  sight,  however,  she  was  glad  of  the 
decision.  Her  overwrought  nerves  began  to  relax 
under  the  soothing  of  the  wood  scents  and  the  tender 

IIQ 


120  Barbara  Ladd 

summer  dark.  In  a  little  while  she  was  asleep  in 
the  strong  curve  of  Doctor  Jim's  right  arm,  —  so 
deep  asleep  that  all  the  ruts  and  jolts  and  corduroy 
bridges  of  an  old  Connecticut  back-country  road 
were  powerless  to  disturb  her  peace.  When  they 
woke  her  up,  at  her  aunt's  door,  she  was  so  drenched 
with  sleep  that  she  forgot  to  dread  the  reckoning. 
With  drowsy,  dark  eyes,  and  red  mouth  softly  trust- 
ful as  a  baby's,  she  bewildered  Mistress  Ladd  by  a 
warm  kiss  and  "  I'm  sorry,  Aunt  Hitty !  "  and  went 
stumbling  off  to  bed  with  her  basket  of  sleeping 
kittens,  oblivious  and  irresponsible  as  they. 

Mistress  Mehitable  looked  after  her  with  small, 
stern  mouth,  but  troubled  eyes.  Then  she  turned 
half  helplessly  to  her  friends,  as  if  to  say,  "  What 
can  I  —  what  ought  I  to  do  ?  " 

Doctor  John  threw  up  both  big,  white  hands  in 
mock  despair,  and  his  sympathetic  laugh  said,  "What 
do  you  expect?  "  But  Doctor  Jim,  more  direct  and 
positive,  said,  "  Best  leave  her  alone  till  to-morrow, 
Mehitable;  and  then  talk  to  her  with  no  talk  of 
punishing.  She's  not  the  breed  that  punishing's 
good  for." 

Mistress  Mehitable  looked  sorrowful,  but  resolute. 

"  I  fear  that  would  not  be  right,  Jim !  "  she  said. 
But  there  was  a  note  of  deep  anxiety  in  her  voice. 
"  People  who  do  wrong  ought  to  be  punished.  Bar- 
bara  has  done  very,  very  wrong !  " 


Barbara  Ladd  121 

Doctor  Jim  was  as  near  feeling  impatient  as  he 
could  dare  to  imagine  himself  with  Mistress  Mehit- 
able. 

"  Nonsense  —  I  mean,  dear  lady,  punishment's 
not  in  itself  one  of  our  numerous  unpleasant  duties. 
It's  a  means  to  an  end,  that's  all.  In  this  case,  it 
just  defeats  your  end.  It's  the  wrong  means  alto- 
gether. Therefore  —  pardon  me  for  saying  it  to 
you,  Mehitable  —  it's  wrong.  It's  hard  enough  to 
manage  Barbara,  I  know,  but  to  punish  her,  or  talk 
to  her  of  punishing,  makes  it  harder  still,  eh,  what?  " 

"  Don't  let  your  conscience  trouble .  you,  Mehit- 
able," said  Doctor  John.  "  I'm  thinking  the  little 
maid  will  manage  to  get  for  herself,  full  measure 
and  running  over,  all  the  punishment  that's  coming 
to  her.  She's  not  the  kind  that  punishment  over- 
looks." 

Was  there  a  suspicion  of  criticism  in  all  this? 
Could  it  be  that  John  Pigeon  and  Jim  Pigeon,  her 
lifelong  cavaliers,  in  whose  sight  all  she  did  was 
wont  to  seem  perfection,  whose  unswerving  homage 
Had  been  her  stay  through  many  an  hour  of  faintness 
and  misgiving,  were  now,  at  last,  beginning  to  admit 
doubts?  Two  large  tears  gathered  slowly  in  the 
corners  of  Mistress  Mehitable's  blue  eyes,  the  resolu- 
tion fled  from  her  mouth,  and  her  fine  lips  quivered 
girlishly.  She  twisted  her  shapely  little  hands  in  her 
apron,  then  regained  her  self-control  with  an  effort. 


122  Barbara  Ladd 

> 

"  Dear  friends,"  said  she,  "  I  fear  I  have  made  a 
sad  failure  of  the  duty  which  I  so  confidently  under- 
took. I  thought  I  could  surely  do  so  much  for  her, 
—  could  so  thoroughly  understand  Winthrop's  child. 
But  that  foreign  woman  —  that  strange  blood! 
There  is  the  trouble.  That  is  what  baffles  all  my 
efforts.  Oh,  perhaps  it  is  partly  my  fault,  too.  Per- 
haps the  child  was  right  in  the  very  singular  letter 
she  left  for  me,  saying  —  just  as  if  she  were  a  grown 
woman  and  had  the  same  rights  as  I  had  —  that  the 
trouble  was  that  we  could  not  understand  each  other ! 
Oh,  I  fear  I  am  not  the  right  woman  to  have  the  care 
of  Barbara !  " 

"  You  are  the  rightest  woman  in  the  world, 
Mehitable!"  thundered  Doctor  Jim,  in  explosive 
protest  against  this  self-accusation.  "  The  rightest 
woman  in  the  world  to  have  the  care  of  any  man, 
woman,  or  child  that  ever  lived." 

"  Jim  Pigeon's  right,  Mehitable,  as  he  usually  is, 
outside  of  medicine  and  politics,"  declared  Doctor 
John.  "  The  little  maid  will  be  ready  enough  some 
day,  I'll  warrant,  to  acknowledge  how  lucky  she  was 
in  having  her  Aunt  Hitty  to  care  for  her.  But  here 
in  Second  Westings  we  are  not  just  at  the  centre  of 
things  exactly,  and  it  may  be  we  get  into  ruts,  think- 
ing our  ways  are  the  only  ways.  Shall  we  try  new 
ways  with  this  very  difficult  little  maid,  Hitty?  " 

Mistress  Mehitable  brushed  off  the  tears  which 


Barbara  Ladd  123 


had  overflowed,  and  held  out  a  hand  to  each  of  the 
big  brothers. 

"  You  are  the  best  friends  a  woman  ever  had,"  she 
averred  with  conviction;  "  and  if  you  both  disagree 
with  me,  I  must  be  wrong.  It  shall  be  your  way  to 
the  best  of  my  power.  After  you've  had  the  horses 
put  up,  come  back  here  and  I'll  have  a  hot  bite  ready 
for  you.  But — oh,  I  do  wish  Winthrop  had  married 
among  his  own  people !  " 

"  It  is  late,  dear  lady,  and  you  are  tired  after  your 
anxieties,''  said  Doctor  Jim.  "  But,  nevertheless, 
since  you  are  so  gracious,  we  will  soon  return,  —  eh, 
what,  John  ?  —  for  a  bowl  of  that  hot  sangaree  which 
Mehitable's  fair  hands  know  how  to  brew  so 
delicately." 

"  Don't  misunderstand  Jim,  Mehitable,"  said  Doc- 
tor John,  as  the  two  withdrew.  "  The  comfort  of 
your  punch  is  nothing  to  us  as  the  comfort  of  your 
presence.  Had  you  ever  consented  to  make  one  man 
happy,  how  miserable  would  you  have  made  others, 
Mehitable!" 

There  was  deep  meaning  and  an  old  reproach 
under  Doctor  John's  tender  raillery;  and  Mistress 
Ladd's  cheeks  flushed  as  she  stood  a  few  moments 
motionless,  alone  in  her  low-ceiled,  wide  parlour. 
She  was  convicted  of  failure  at  every  point.  Well 
she  knew  how  happy  she  might  have  made  either 
one  of  the  big-limbed,  big-hearted  brothers,  had  she 


124  Barbara  Ladd 

not  shrunk  from  making  the  other  miserable.  And 
she  had  never  been  able  to  decide  which  was  the 
dearer  to  her  heart ;  for,  though  she  was  apt  to  turn 
first  to  Jim  in  any  need,  or  any  joy,  the  thought  of 
pain  for  John  was  ever  hard  for  her  to  endure.  Her 
heart  was  very  full  as  she  set  about  preparing  the 
brew  which  they  both  loved :  and  before  they  came 
she  stole  noiselessly  up-stairs  to  the  room  over  the 
porch,  and  softly  kissed  the  dark,  unrepentant  waves 
of  the  sleeping  Barbara's  hair. 


CHAPTER    XII. 

It  was  late  morning  when  Barbara  awoke  —  so 
late  that  she  saw,  by  the  position  of  the  square  of 
sunshine  on  the  wall  beyond  her  bed,  that  the  hour 
for  breakfast  was  over.  Her  first  vague  waking 
sense  was  one  of  joy  to  come,  which  she  presently 
caught  and  fixed  as  the  knowledge  that  her  Uncle 
Bob  would  soon  be  with  her.  Then  a  great  flood  of 
depression  rolled  over  her,  blotting  out  the  joy,  as 
she  remembered  that  she  had  Aunt  Hitty  yet  to 
reckon  with.  To  make  matters  worse,  she  had  slept 
past  breakfast  time,  —  which  was  almost  an  im- 
morality in  that  punctual  household.  A  lump  came 
up  in  her  throat,  and  tears  ached  behind  her  eyes, 
for  she  had  meant  to  try  so  hard  to  make  up,  —  and 
now  she  had  gone  and  sinned  again.  She  shut  her 
eyes  tight,  and  made  a  determined  effort  to  regain 
hold  of  the  sleepiness  which  still  drenched  and 
clouded  her  brain.  This  effort  was  too  much,  and  on 
the  instant  the  last  vestige  of  her  drowsiness  cleared 
away,  and  her  brain  grew  keen  as  flame.  She  sat 
up,  determined  to  face  the  conflict  and  get  it  over. 

As  she  sat  up,  her  eyes  fell  upon  the  little  table 
125 


126  Barbara  Ladd 

by  her  bedside,  whereon  she  was  wont  to  keep  her 
candle,  her  filagreed  bottle  of  lavender  water,  her 
much  marked  copy  of  Sir  Philip  Sidney's  sonnets, 
and  her  Bible,  which  was  thumbed  chiefly  at  Isaiah, 
Ecclesiastes,  and  the  Song  of  Solomon.  Her  eyes 
opened  very  wide  as  she  saw  there  now,  —  event  un- 
precedented and  unbelievable,  —  a  little  tray  with 
white  linen  napkin.  On  the  tray  were  a  glass  and  a 
jug  of  milk,  a  plate  of  the  seed-cakes  which  she  par- 
ticularly loved,  a  big  slice  of  barley  bread,  and  a  bowl 
of  yellow  raspberries.  She  stared  for  half  a  minute, 
and  rubbed  her  eyes,  and  thought.  Abby,  certainly, 
could  not  have  done  it.  She  would  neither  have 
dared  nor  cared  to.  Then  — it  was  Aunt  Hitty,  — 
and  after  the  way  she  had  treated  her,  —  and  after 
that  cold,  hateful  letter !  She  reached  out  a  doubtful 
hand  and  touched  the  bread  and  berries.  She  started 
to  eat  a  seed-cake,  but  it  stuck  in  her  throat,  quite 
unable  to  get  past  a  certain  strange,  aching  obstruc- 
tion, which  had  gathered  there  all  at  once.  Tears 
suddenly  streamed  down  her  face;  and  springing 
impulsively  out  of  bed,  she  ran,  barefooted  and  in  her 
white  nightgown,  straight  to  the  little  bow-win- 
dowed sewing-room,  where  she  knew  that  at  this 
hour  her  aunt  would  be  busy  with  the  needle. 

Mistress  Mehitable  had  just  time  to  thrust  aside 
her  needle  and  the  fine  fabric  she  was  fashioning 
before  Barbara  flung  herself  into  her  arms,  sobbing 


Barbara  Ladd  127 


passionately.  The  good  lady's  heart  warmed  in 
response  to  this  outburst,  and  she  held  Barbara  close 
to  her  breast,  whispering,  "  There,  there,  dearie,  we 
just  won't  talk  about  it  at  all !  We'll  just  try  hard 
to  understand  each  other  better  in  the  future!  " 

At  the  same  moment,  while  her  eyes  were  filling 
with  tears,  she  could  not  help  a  whimsical  thought 
of  what  Doctor  John  would  say.     "  He  would  say," 

—  she  said  to  herself  at  the  back  of  her  brain,  — 
"  '  Seed-cakes  may  save  a  soul  quicker  than  switch- 
ings, Mehitable!'  Mistress  Mehitable's  earnest 
mind  had  no  apprehension  of  humour  save  as  it 
reached  her  by  reflection  from  Doctor  John  or 
Doctor  Jim. 

Presently  Barbara  found  her  voice. 

"  Forgive  me,  Aunt  Hitty,  forgive  me ! "  she 
sobbed. 

Mistress  Mehitable  held  her  a  little  closer  by  way 
of  reply. 

"  I'm  not  worth  your  while,  Aunt  Hitty  —  I'm 
not  one  bit  worth  all  the  trouble  you  take  for  me  — 
I'm  nothing  but  a  wretched  little  reptile,  Aunt  Hitty, 

—  and  I  just  wonder  you  don't  hate  and  despise 
me!" 

"  There,  there,  dear,"  murmured  Mistress  Mehit- 
able, patting  her  hair.  She  was  sure  of  her  feelings, 
but  could  not  be  quite  sure  that  words  would  rightly 
express  them  at  this  crisis.    If  she  talked,  she  knew 


128  Barbara  Ladd 

she  might  say  the  wrong  thing.  She'd  leave  it  all 
to  Barbara,  and  be  safe  at  least  for  the  moment. 

"  I  knew  how  bad  I  was,"  continued  Barbara,  jus- 
tifying the  statement  by  remembrance  of  some  brief 
and  scattered  moments  of  self -questioning.  "  I 
knew  how  bad  I  was,  but  I  couldn't  say  so,  and  I 
never,  never  knew  how  lovely  you  could  be,  Aunt 
Hitty !  I  was  so  dreading  to  see  you  this  morning, 
—  and  then,  oh,  you  just  brought  me  the  seed-cakes, 
and  the  yellow  raspberries,  and  never  said  one 
word !  " 

As  she  dwelt  on  this  magnanimity,  Barbara's  sobs 
broke  forth  afresh. 

"  There,  there,  dear,"  murmured  Mistress  Mehit- 
able  again,  and  kissed  her  tenderly,  still  refusing 
to  be  drawn  from  her  intrenchments,  but  deeply 
rejoicing  in  the  triumph  of  her  new  strategy. 

"  To  think  —  why,  I  never  really  knew  you  till 
now,  Aunt  Hitty !  "  and  Barbara  hugged  her  with 
swift  vehemence.  "  When  I  saw  the  things  by  my 
bed,  and  thought  of  you  stealing  in  and  putting  them 
there,  and  stealing  out  without  waking  me,  —  oh, 
Aunt  Hitty,  I  thought  such  a  lot  all  in  one  instant, 
and  I  knew  you  couldn't  have  done  that,  after  me 
being  so  bad,  unless  you  loved  me,  —  could  you  ?  " 

"  Indeed  I  couldn't !  "  answered  Mistress  Ladd, 
with  conviction. 


Barbara  Ladd  129 


"And  you  will  really  and  truly  forgive  me?" 
persisted  Barbara. 

This  was  a  direct  challenge,  and  Mistress  Mehit- 
able  was  too  honest  not  to  come  forth  and  meet  it. 
She  gently  pushed  Barbara  off,  and  held  her  so  she 
could  look  straight  into  her  fearless  young  eyes. 

"  I  really  and  truly  forgive  you  —  and  love  you, 
Barbara !  "  she  said.  "  And  "  —  she  continued,  with 
a  slight  hesitancy,  in  an  instant's  resolve  achieving 
a  resolution,  —  "I  ask  you  to  forgive  me  for  my 
misunderstandings  of  you,  and  all  my  many  mis- 
takes." 

"  Why,  Aunt  Hitty !  "  exclaimed  Barbara,  too 
tender  in  her  mood  to  agree  with  these  self-accusa- 
tions, but  too  honest  to  contradict. 

"  I  have  failed  to  realise  how,  being  so  different 
from  other  girls,  you  required  different  treatment 
from  other  girls,"  went  on  Mistress  Mehitable,  firmly 
abasing  herself.  "  I  thought  there  was  only  one 
right  mould,  and  I  must  try  to  force  you  into  it,  how- 
ever much  the  effort  should  hurt  us  both,  dear.  I 
have  been  blind,  very  blind,  and  wrong.  In  this  re- 
mote little  world  of  ours,  Barbara,  we  get  into  ruts, 
and  come  to  think  that  the  only  way  is  our  way." 

Barbara's  eyes  were  glowing  with  enthusiasm. 
She  had  discovered  Aunt  Hitty's  heart,  —  and  now 
she  was  discovering  a  breadth  and  insight  which  she 
could  never  have  believed  possible  in  that  competent 


130  Barbara  Ladd 

but  seemingly  restricted  brain.  If  Aunt  Hitty  could 
thus  lift  herself  to  look  beyond  the  atmosphere  of 
Second  Westings,  and  to  understand  people  differ- 
ent from  those  she  had  always  been  used  to,  she 
must  be  a  very  great  woman.  Barbara's  eyes  flamed 
with  the  ardour  of  her  appreciation.  She  did  not 
know  what  to  say,  but  her  expression  was  eloquent. 

"  That's  a  quotation  from  Doctor  John,"  said  the 
conscientious  Mistress  Mehitable,  suddenly  afraid 
from  Barbara's  glowing  look  that  she  was  getting 
more  credit  than  her  due.  "  But  I  have  become 
convinced  of  its  truth." 

"  How  wise  and  good  you  are,  Aunt  Hitty !  I'll 
never,  never  misunderstand  you  again !  "  cried  Bar- 
bara, rashly,  breaking  down  Mistress  Mehitable's 
guard,  and  once  more  hugging  her  with  vehemence. 

Mistress  Mehitable  smiled,  gratified  but  doubtful. 
She  was  surprised  at  her  own  unexpected  apprecia- 
tion of  Barbara's  demonstrativeness  and  warmth,  so 
unlike  anything  that  had  ever  before  invaded  the 
cool  sphere  of  her  experience.  She  felt  it  her  duty, 
however,  to  qualify  Barbara's  extravagant  expecta- 
tions, not  realising  that  what  the  impetuous  girl 
intended  to  express  was  rather  a  hope  than  a  convic- 
tion. 

"  We  hardly  dare  expect  quite  that,  dear,"  she 
said,  gently.     "  But  at  least  we  can  agree  to  trust 


Barbara  Ladd  1^1 


o 


each  other's  good  intentions.  We  can  promise  that, 
can't  we?  " 

"  Of  course,  I'll  always  trust  you  now,  Aunt 
Hitty,  since  I've  seen  your  lovely  heart ! "  ex- 
claimed Barbara,  with  flattering  fervour. 

"  I  have  failed  to  realise,"  continued  Mistress 
Mehitable,  "  that  you  are  no  longer  a  little  girl,  but 
very  nearly  a  grown  woman.  Many  girls  are  grown 
women  at  your  age,  Barbara,  so  that  I  have  decided 
on  something  that  will  surprise  you.  From  this 
time  forward,  I  shift  my  responsibility  for  you 
largely  to  your  own  shoulders,  and  shall  hope  to  be 
more  your  friend  than  your  guardian.  I  hand  you 
over  to  yourself,  Barbara.  You  must  learn  to  dis- 
cipline yourself!  " 

Barbara  slipped  down  to  the  floor,  and  leaned 
against  her  aunt's  knee,  her  dark,  small  face  grown 
very  thoughtful. 

"  All  I  dare  say,  Aunt  Hitty,"  she  said,  slowly, 
weighing  her  words  with  unwonted  care,  "  is  that 
I'll  try  with  all  my  might.  But  I  warn  you  that  you 
are  leaving  me  in  very  bad  hands.  I  want  to  be  good, 
but  sometimes  I  can't  help  being  bad !  " 

"  Well,"  said  Mistress  Mehitable,  with  a  curious 
reflex  of  Doctor  John's  humour,  "  you'll  have  to 
punish  yourself  after  this.  I  warn  you  that  you 
must  not  look  to  me  for  punishment  after  this !  " 

Barbara's  eyes  got  very  wide,  and  danced;    and 


132  Barbara  Ladd 

she  gave  a  little  shriek  of  delight,  such  as  that  with 
which  she  was  wont  to  greet  Doctor  John's  whim- 
sical sallies. 

"  Why,  Aunt  Hitty,"  she  cried,  clapping  her 
hands,  "  you  said  that  just  like  Doctor  John !  " 

Mistress  Mehitable  flushed  faintly,  and  laughed 
like  a  girl.  She  stooped  over  and  kissed  Barbara 
fairly  on  the  mouth.  Then  she  arose  rather 
hurriedly. 

"  I  have  often  wished  I  could  make  myself  in  many 
ways  more  like  those  two  great-hearted  gentlemen !  " 
she  said. 

Barbara  remained  sitting  upon  the  floor.  Her 
eyes  narrowed  thoughtfully  as  she  stared  out  of  the 
window. 

"  They  are  perfectly  dear,"  she  agreed,  without 
reservation.  "  Isn't  it  splendid  that  they  love  us  so, 
Aunt  Hitty?" 

"  I'm  going  to  the  still-room  now,"  said  Mistress 
Mehitable,  moving  toward  the  door.  "  I  put  in  the 
bergamot  just  before  breakfast." 

"  I'll  come  and  help  you  in  a  little  while,  —  dear !  " 
said  Barbara,  suddenly  realising  the  changed  rela- 
tions, and  suddenly  making  practical  application  of 
it.  That  caressing,  equal,  half-protecting  "  dear  " 
sounded  strange  to  Mistress  Mehitable.  It  gave  her 
something  of  a  shock,  yet  she  was  not  sure  she  didn't 
like  it.    It  made  her  feel  less  alone  than  of  old.    She 


Barbara  Ladd  133 


appeared  not  to  notice  it,  however,  merely  saying 
before  she  vanished : 

"  If  I'm  not  in  the  still-room,  I'll  be  down  the  back 
garden,  gathering  herbs.  The  lemon-thyme's  in 
flower,  if  you're  going  to  distill  any  more  of  your 
'  Maryland  Memories.'  Uncle  Robert  might  like  a 
flask  of  it." 

"  Lovely,"  said  Barbara,  dreamily.  "  We  will 
make  him  some.    I'll  hurry." 

But  for  a  few  minutes  she  did  not  hurry  at  all. 
Her  rich,  rebellious  hair  all  down  about  her  vivid 
face,  her  thin  little  shapely  feet  peeping  out  from 
under  the  frills  of  her  white  nightgown,  she  sat  in 
the  square  of  sunshine  and  pondered.  Since  she 
fled  away  yesterday  morning,  what  a  change  had 
come  about!  She  felt  as  if  that  wild  and  foolish 
adventure  was  years  behind  her.  A  certain  vague 
sense  of  responsibility  oppressed  her,  a  responsibility 
to  herself  hitherto  unacknowledged.  She  made  the 
momentous  resolve  that  she  would  learn  to  know 
herself  a  little,  as  a  step  to  enabling  other  people, 
Robert  Gault  and  Aunt  Hitty  in  particular,  to  under- 
stand her.  She  got  up  and  scrutinised  herself  keenly 
in  the  glass. 

"  You  didn't  know  you  were  getting  so  grown 
up,  did  you,  you  ugly,  skinny,  little  black  thing ! " 
she  muttered. 

Then  she  flitted  back  to  her  own  room,  poured 


134  Barbara  Ladd 

out  a  dish  of  milk  for  the  hungry  kittens,  and 
snatched  at  her  breakfast  by  mouthfuls,  while  she 
made  her  toilet  and  dressed.  Last  of  all,  before 
going-  to  join  Mistress  Mehi table,  she  sat  down  on 
the  edge  of  her  bed,  and  took  the  kittens  into  her  lap. 
One  by  one  she  held  up  their  round,  pinky-nosed 
faces,  and  gazed  seriously  into  their  enigmatic  young 
eyes. 

"  I  want  you  to  remember,  now,  my  babies,"  said 
she,  insisting  upon  their  unwilling  attention,  "  that 
your  missis  is  now  most  grow'd  up  —  she's  grow'd 
up  in  one  night,  like  old  Mr.  Jonah's  gourd.  I  want 
you  to  remember  that  we  mustn't  be  silly  and  child- 
ish any  more,  except  just  in  private,  and  where  we 
can't  help  it.  And  I  want  you  to  remember  that  you 
mustn't  try  to  coax  your  missis  into  mischief  any 
more  like  you  did  yesterday,  going  and  helping  her 
run  off  with  the  canoe,  and  such  foolishnesses.  And 
I  want  you  to  remember  that  after  this,  if  we  can 
think  of  it,  it  isn't  going  to  be  '  Aunt  Hitty  '  this, 
and  '  Aunt  Hitty  '  that,  all  the  time,  —  but  '  dear, ' 
and  '  honey  '  (as  we  used  to  say  in  Maryland),  and 
'  blue-eyed  lady,'  and  '  small  person,'  because  we're 
just  as  tall  as  she  is,  —  and  we're  too  big  to  be  pun- 
ished any  more,  if  we  are  bad,  —  and  Uncle  Bob's 
coming  next  week,  —  and  Robert  Gault  may  come 
any  day,  if  he's  impatient!  " 

With  a  face  of  unwonted  sobriety,  but  dancing 


Barbara  Ladd  1 35 

lights  in  her  eyes,  she  went  to  the  door.  With  her 
hand  on  the  latch  she  changed  her  mind.  Rushing 
to  her  glass,  with  a  few  deft  touches  she  changed  the 
arrangement  of  her  hair,  heaping  it  over  her  ears, 
and  leaving  just  one  crinkly  curl  to  hang  down  over 
her  left  shoulder. 

The  change  added  years  to  her  appearance.  Then, 
snatching  up  a  pair  of  scissors,  she  swiftly  ripped 
out  a  deep  tuck  in  her  frock,  letting  the  skirt  down 
a  good  three  inches.  With  vigorous  brushings  and 
assiduous  pattings  she  smoothed  out  the  crease  so 
that  it  was  not  obtrusive;  and  severely  checking 
her  wonted  rush  and  skip,  she  went  to  join  Aunt 
Hitty  in  the  fragrant  mysteries  of  the  still-room. 


CHAPTER    XIII. 

To  both  Mistress  Mehitable  and  Barbara  the  new- 
order  of  things  proved  itself,  all  through  that  first 
day,  supremely  satisfactory;  and  each  vowed  most 
solemnly  in  her  heart  that  she,  at  least,  would  not 
be  the  one  to  blame  if  it  did  not  last.  During  the 
afternoon,  when  Doctor  John  and  Doctor  Jim  were 
drinking  a  pot  of  tea  with  them,  and  wondering 
delightedly  at  the  unexpected  atmosphere  of  peace, 
Barbara  asked,  suddenly: 

"  How  did  you  ever  manage,  Aunt  Hitty,  to  get 
Doctor  John  and  Doctor  Jim  off  after  me  so  quickly. 
I  thought  I  had  such  a  good  start !  And  how  did  you 
know  which  way  I  was  going?  " 

Both  men  looked  meaningly  at  Mistress  Mehit- 
able, but  failed  to  catch  her  eye.  Doctor  Jim  began 
to  shake  his  head  violently,  but  stopped  in  confusion 
under  Barbara's  look  of  questioning  astonishment. 
But  Mistress  Mehitable,  serenely  unconscious,  an- 
swered at  once : 

"  Old  Debby  Blue,"  said  she,  "  with  whom  you 
breakfasted,  rode  over  as  fast  as  she  could  to  Doctor 
Jim  with  the  news.    The  poor  old  woman  was  nearly 

136 


Barbara  Ladd  137 


dead  from  her  exertions,  I  think  you  told  me,  Jim. 
She  has  a  good  heart,  and  truly  loves  you,  Barbara. 
I  am  sorry  if  I  have  seemed  harsh  to  her  at  times." 

Barbara's  eyes  grew  wide,  her  face  darkened 
ominously,  and  her  full,  bowed  lips  drew  together  to 
a  straight  line  of  scarlet.  Doctor  John  sat  up 
straight,  with  twinkling  eyes,  expecting  the  out- 
break of  a  characteristic  Barbara  storm,  such  as  he 
always  enjoyed  in  his  big,  dry  way.  But  Doctor 
Jim  made  haste  to  interpose. 

"  You  mustn't  be  too  hard  on  Debby,  Barbara, 
because  she  told  what  she  had  promised  not  to  tell. 
What  else  could  she  do?  You  know  well  enough  she 
couldn't  stop  you  herself,  you  headstrong  baggage. 
I  won't  have  you  unfair  to  Debby.  She  loves  you, 
and  nearly  killed  herself  to  save  you !  " 

Barbara's  look  of  anger  changed  to  a  sort  of  obsti- 
nate sullenness  for  an  instant.  Then  with  an  effort 
she  forced  herself  to  smile,  while  tears  sprang  into 
her  eyes. 

"  Of  course,  Debby  was  right,"  she  acknowledged. 
"  But  I  wish  she'd  done  it  some  other  way.  She 
shouldn't  have  let  me  trust  her.  She  fooled  me  when 
I  trusted  her.  Oh,  I'll  forgive  her,  of  course,"  she 
continued,  bitterly,  "  but  never,  never,  will  I  trust  her 
again !  "  Then  she  sprang  up  impetuously,  and  ran 
and  flung  both  arms  around  Mistress  Mehitable. 
"  Of  course  I'd  forgive  her,  anyway,  because  if  she 


138  Barbara  Ladd 

hadn't  fooled  me  I  might  have  never  found  out  how 
lovely  you  were,  —  honey !  " 

Both  Doctor  John  and  Doctor  Jim  were  breathless 
with  amazement  for  a  moment.  What  was  this 
miracle  ?  Whence  came  this  understanding  and  this 
sympathy,  all  in  a  night?  They  saw  a  new  glad 
warmth  in  Mistress  Mehitable's  eyes.  They  ex- 
changed significant  glances. 

"  All  I  can  say,  Barbara,"  growled  Doctor  Jim,  at 
length,  "  is  that  you've  been  a  long  while  finding  out 
what  ought  to  have  been  as  plain  as  the  nose  on 
your  face,  —  eh,  what  ?  " 

"  For  a  young  lady  who  was  able  to  discern  at  first 
glance  the  fascinations  of  Jim  Pigeon,"  chimed  in 
Doctor  John,  "  I  think  you  have  been  rather  undis- 
criminating,  Barbara !  " 

"  She  could  see  two  battered  old  tallow  dips,  when 
she  couldn't  see  the  moon !  "  added  Doctor  Jim, 
solemnly. 

There  was  always  a  relish  of  peril  in  rallying 
Barbara,  whose  audacity  in  retort  was  one  of  the 
scandals  of  Second  Westings.  She  flashed  her  white 
teeth  upon  them  in  a  naughty  smile,  and  her  eyes 
danced  as  she  kissed  Mistress  Mehitable  on  both 
cheeks. 

"  Of  course/'  she  cried.  "  Nobody  knows  better 
than  you  two  great  big  dears  what  a  perfect  little 


Barbara  Ladd  139 


fool  I've  been,  not  to  be  in  love  with  Aunt  Hitty 
all  this  time." 

"Barbara!"  protested  Mistress  Mehitable,  in  a 
tone  of  rebuke,  —  and  then  again,  bethinking  her- 
self, "  Barbara,  child !  "  in  a  tone  of  appeal. 

"  But  now,  you  can  tell  a  hawk  from  a  handsaw, 
eh,  baggage?  "  chuckled  Doctor  John;  while  Doctor 
Jim  exploded  noisily,  and  then,  checking  himself, 
cast  upon  Mistress  Mehitable  a  glance  of  apprehen- 
sion. 

But  Barbara  had  heeded  neither  the  rebuke  nor  the 
appeal. 

"  I  know,  I  know,"  she  wrent  on,  clapping  her 
hands  with  delight.  "  You  didn't  want  me  to  find 
her  out,  —  you  didn't  want  me  to  know  how  lovely 
she  is !  Conspirators !  I  won't  love  you  any  more, 
either  of  you.  And  I'm  going  to  keep  Aunt  Hitty 
all  to  myself  here;  and  not  let  you  even  see  her; 
and  make  you  both  so  jealous  you'll  wish  you  had 
let  me  run  away  in  the  canoe  and  get  drowned  in 
the  rapids." 

"  Barbara,  Barbara,"  murmured  Mehitable. 

Doctor  Jim  wagged  his  great  head,  and  growled 
inarticulately. 

"  It's  we  who  are  the  victims  of  conspiracy,  John," 
said  he.  "  If  Mehitable  and  Barbara  have  discovered 
each  other,  what  becomes  of  us,  I'd  like  to  know! 


140  Barbara  Ladd 

But  it  sha'n't  last.  We'll  sow  seeds  of  dissension 
presently,  —  eh,  what?  " 

"  Just  let  us  wait  till  Bobby  Gault  comes ! "  sug- 
gested Doctor  John,  with  gentle  malice. 

Barbara's  face  grew  grave  on  the  instant. 

*'  Of  course,  Aunt  Hitty,  they  have  told  you  all 
about  Robert,"  she  said,  earnestly,  "  but  all  they 
know  about  his  reasons  is  what  he  told  them  himself, 
you  know.  And  he  was  determined  to  shield  me, 
of  course.  But  it  was  all  my  fault.  How  could  he 
know  how  bad  and  foolish  I  was?  I  just  mixed  him 
all  up ;  and  it  makes  me  ashamed  to  think  how  horrid 
I  was;  and  I  will  never  forgive  myself.  But  you 
mustn't  let  them  prejudice  you  against  Robert, 
honey,  —  but  just  wait  and  see  what  you  think  of 
him  yourself,  won't  you,  please?  " 

Mistress  Mehitable  smiled,  and  exchanged  looks 
with  Doctor  John  and  Doctor  Jim. 

"  Really,  dear,"  said  she,  "  they  have  not  given 
me  any  very  bad  impressions  of  Robert.  I  think 
both  Doctor  John  and  Doctor  Jim  knew  where  to 
put  the  blame.    And  I  know,  too !  " 

Barbara  looked  at  her  doubtfully-  Such  complete 
acceptance  of  her  position  almost  seemed  unkind 
and  critical.  But  her  aunt's  smile  reassured  her. 
This  was  not  criticism,  but  something  as  near  raillery 
as  Mistress  Mehitable  would  permit  herself. 

"  I  believe  they  have  been  abusing  me  behind  my 


Barbara  Ladd  141 


back,  —  and  they  pretending  to  love  me !  "  cried 
Barbara,  tossing  her  head  in  saucy  challenge. 

"  Never,  child ;  we  hug  our  delusions,  Jim  Pigeon 
and  I,"  said  Doctor  John. 

"  No,  hug  me,"  laughed  Barbara,  darting  around 
the  tea-table  and  seating  herself  on  his  lap. 

"You  are  our  worst  delusion,  baggage!''  said 
Doctor  Jim,  shaking  a  large  finger  at  her.  "  And 
now  I  see  you're  setting  out  to  delude  your  poor 
aunt,  after  making  life  a  burden  to  her  for  two 
years.  And  poor  Bobby  Gault,  —  he'll  find  you  a 
delusion  and  a  snare !  " 

"  I  think  you  are  unkind,  even  if  you  are  just  in 
fun,"  protested  Barbara,  half  offended,  half  amused. 
But  at  this  moment  both  men  rose  to  go.  Doctor 
John,  as  he  raised  his  towering  bulk  from  the  chair, 
lifted  Barbara  with  him  as  if  she  had  been  a  baby, 
held  her  in  his  arms  for  a  moment  while  he  peered 
lovingly  and  quizzically  into  her  swiftly  clearing 
face,  gave  her  a  resounding  kiss,  and  set  her  on  her 
feet. 

"  Bless  the  child !  "  said  Doctor  Jim,  noticing  now 
for  the  first  time  the  change  in  appearance.  "  What's 
become  of  our  little  Barbara?  How  she's  grown  up 
over  night !  " 

"  And  how  her  petticoats  have  grown  down !  " 
added  Doctor  John,  backing  off  to  survey  her  criti- 
cally.   "  Tut,  tut,  the  wanton  hussy !    How  did  she 


142  Barbara  Ladd 

dare  to  kiss  me!  Goodness  gracious!  To  think 
I  had  a  young  woman  like  that  sitting  on  my  lap !  " 

"  You  had  better  be  careful  what  you  say,  Doctor 
John,"  retorted  Barbara,  firmly,  "  or  I  will  be  grown 
up,  and  never  kiss  you  or  let  you  hold  me  on  your 
lap  any  more !  " 

"  I  humbly  crave  your  pardon,  gracious  fair.  I 
am  your  most  devoted,  humble  servant !  "  said  Doc- 
tor John,  setting  his  heels  together  at  a  precise  right 
angle,  and  bowing  profoundly  over  her  hand  till  his 
brocaded  coat-tails  stuck  out  stiffly  behind  him. 

Barbara  rather  liked  this  hand-kissing,  after 
Robert's  initiation,  and  took  it  with  composure  as  her 
due.  Why  should  she  not  have  her  hand  kissed,  as 
well  as  Aunt  Hitty  ?  But  Doctor  Jim  made  his  fare- 
well in  different  fashion. 

"I  won't  have  her  grow  up  this  way !"  he  growled, 
snatching  her  up  and  holding  her  as  if  he  feared  she 
would  be  taken  away  from  him.  "  She's  just  our 
little  Barby,  our  little,  thorny  brier-rose!  Eh  — 
what?" 

"  Our  barby  brier-rose,  you  mean !  "  interjected 
Doctor  John,  with  a  chuckle. 

But  every  one  ignored  this  poor  witticism,  and 
Doctor  Jim  continued,  while  Barbara  softly  kicked 
her  toes  against  his  waistcoat,  "  It  would  break 
my  heart  to  have  her  grown  up,  and  young  missish, 
and  prim.    What  have  you  done  to  her,  Mehitable  ?  " 


Barbara  Ladd  143 


Mistress  Mehitable  gave  a  clear  little  ripple  of 
laughter,  flute-like  and  fresh.  She  was  feeling 
younger  and  gayer  than  she  had  felt  for  years. 

"  I  have  just  tried  to  carry  out  your  own  sugges- 
tion, Jim !  "  said  she,  cheerfully.  "  I  must  say,  I 
think  it  was  a  very  wise  suggestion.  1  have  handed 
Barbara  over  to  her  own  care,  that's  all.  I  am  sorry 
you  don't  like  the  results !  " 

"  Don't  worry,  Doctor  Jim !  "  cried  Barbara,  pur- 
chasing her  release  by  kissing  him'  hard  on  both 
cheeks.  "  Don't  worry  about  me  being  changed. 
I  was  bom  bad,  you  know.  And  I'm  afraid  I'll  be 
just  as  bad  as  ever  by  to-morrow  —  except  to  Aunt 
Hitty !  If  I'm  bad  to  you  any  more,  dear,"  — 
and  she  turned  impetuously  to  Mistress  Mehitable, 
—  "  I'll  —  I'll  —  "  and  feeling  a  sudden  imperious 
threat  of  tears,  she  fled  away  to  her  own  room.  It 
had  been  a  wonderful,  wonderful  day  for  her,  and 
she  felt  that  she  must  have  a  little  cry  at  once.  On 
her  white  bed  she  wept  deliciously.  Then  she 
thought,  and  thought,  and  thought,  and  made  re- 
solves, in  sympathetic  communion  with  her  pillow. 

In  the  parlour  below,  Doctor  Jim  had  said,  before 
leaving : 

"  I  think  you  are  going  to  get  a  lot  of  comfort  out 
of  her  now,  Mehitable,  eh,  what?  " 

And  Doctor  John,  troubled  by  a  maudlin  kind  of 
moisture  about  his  eyes,  had  said  nothing. 


144  Barbara  Ladd 

_ —        i,  « 

And  Mistress  Mehitable  had  said,  fervently : 

"  I  hope  she  is  going  to  get  a  lot  of  comfort  out 

of  me,  Jim.    I  see  that  I  have  been  greatly  in  the 

wrong ! " 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

All  the  next  morning  Mistress  Mehitable  and  Bar- 
bara were  busy  overhauling  Barbara's  frocks.  Such 
as  would  admit  of  it  were  let  down  some  three  or 
four  inches.  Of  the  others,  two  of  rich  material 
were  laid  away  in  Mistress  Mehitable's  huge  carved 
oak  chest  lined  with  cedar,  a  repository  of  varied 
treasures  of  the  loom.  The  rest,  three  in  number  and 
plain  of  weave,  were  set  aside  to  be  given  to  Mercy 
Chapman.  There  was  much  important  planning, 
much  interesting  consultation;  and  in  this  feminine 
intimacy  they  grew  ever  closer  to  each  other,  throw- 
ing off  the  watchful  self-consciousness,  the  sense  of 
admiring  and  reciprocal  discovery,  which  made  them 
more  happy  than  at  ease  in  each  other's  company. 

Early  in  the  afternoon  Barbara  decided  she  would 
go  out  to  her  favourite  apple-tree  in  the  back  gar- 
den and  read.  She  openly  took  down  the  second 
volume  of  "Clarissa  Harlowe," — having  already 
got  through  the  first  volume  in  surreptitious 
moments.  Mistress  Mehitable  discreetly,  but  with 
difficulty  and  some  soul-questioning,  refrained  from 
admonition.    Barbara  felt  in  her  heart  a  faint  quaver 

MS 


146  Barbara  Ladd 


of  trepidation,  as  she  thus  frankly  assumed  her  inde- 
pendence; but  she  had  the  full  courage  of  her  con- 
victions, and  outwardly  she  was  calm. 

"  Mr.  Richardson  does  not  seem  to  me  a  very 
strong  writer,"  she  remarked  at  the  door,  —  "  espe- 
cially after  one  has  read  those  wonderful  plays  of 
Mr.  Shakespeare  and  Mr.  Ben  Jonson,  as  I  did  at 
home  in  Maryland!  But  every  one  should  know 
'  Clarissa,'  shouldn't  they,  dear?  " 

Mistress  Mehitable  gasped.  She,  too,  had  read 
those  wonderful  plays  of  Mr.  Shakespeare  and  Mr. 
Ben  Jonson.  But  she  was  thoroughbred,  and  gave 
no  sign  of  her  dismay. 

"  I  never  liked  the  lady,  myself,  dear,"  she  an- 
swered, casually.  "  She  always  seemed  to  me  rather 
silly." 

This  was  Barbara's  own  judgment,  and  confirmed 
her  new  appreciation  of  her  aunt's  intelligence.  At 
the  same  time,  this  apparently  easy  acceptance,  on 
Mistress  Mehitablc's  part,  of  Barbara's  emancipa- 
tion, seemed  almost  too  good  to  be  true.  Her  heart 
swelled  passionately  toward  this  blue-eyed,  calm, 
patrician  little  woman,  whom  she  had  so  long  mis- 
understood. She  came  back,  put  a  caressing  arm 
around  Mistress  Mehitable's  waist,  kissed  her  fer- 
vently, and  looked  deep  into  her  eyes.  Mistress 
Mehitable  actually  trembled  in  the  recesses  of  her 
soul  lest  that  searching  gaze  should  discover  what 


Barbara  Ladd  147 


she  had  nearly  said  about  young  girls  and  novel- 
reading!  But  she  kept  the  blue  deeps  of  her  eyes 
clear  and  tranquil,  and  her  lips  smiled  frank  response. 

"  Oh,  you  are  so  good  and  wonderful  and  wise, 
honey,"  Barbara  said,  at  length.  "  What  a  foolish, 
foolish  child  I've  been,  —  and  you,  my  dear,  dear 
father's  sister!  Why,  just  to  look  at  you  ought  to 
have  brought  me  to  my  senses.  So  many  ways  you 
look  like  him !  " 

Then  a  thing  very  remarkable  indeed  took  place. 
Mistress  Mehitable's  fine  poise  wavered  and  van- 
ished. She  almost  clutched  Barbara  to  her  breast, 
then  buried  her  head  on  the  firm  young  shoulders 
and  cried  a  little  quite  unrestrainedly,  feeling  a 
great  ache  in  her  heart  for  her  dead  brother  Win- 
throp,  and  a  great  love  in  her  heart  for  her  dead 
brother's  child.  Barbara  was  surprised,  but  greatly 
touched  by  this  outburst.  She  held  her  close,  and 
patted  her  hair,  and  called  her  soft  names  suddenly 
remembered  from  the  soft-voiced  endearments  of 
plantation  days;  till  presently  Mistress  Mehitable 
recovered,  and  laughed  gently  through  her  tears. 

"  Don't  think  me  silly,  dear,"  she  pleaded,  "  but 
I've  just  realised  for  the  first  time  that  you  have 
your  dear  father's  wonderful  eyes.  Your  colouring, 
and  your  hair,  and  your  mouth,  are  all  very  different 
from  his.  But  your  eyes,  —  they  are  his  exactly. 
Such  wonderful,   deep,   clear,  true  eyes,   Barbara, 


148  Barbara  Ladd 

sometimes  sea-gray,  sometimes  sea-green.  Where 
have  my  eyes  been  all  this  time?  " 

Barbara  sighed  happily.  "  Isn't  it  lovely  we  have 
found  each  other  at  last,  Aunt  Hitty  ?  I  don't  think 
it  will  be  so  hard  now  for  me  to  be  good !  " 

Then  she  picked  up  "  Clarissa  "  again,  and  ran 
gaily  out  to  the  garden. 

Barbara's  apple-tree  had  three  great  limbs  branch- 
ing out  at  about  five  feet  from  the  ground,  forming 
a  most  luxurious  crotch  in  which  to  sit  and  read. 
Smaller  apple-trees,  interspersed  with  tangled  shrub- 
bery and  some  trellised  vines,  almost  surrounded  it, 
so  that  on  three  sides  it  afforded  perfect  seclusion. 
Sweet  airs  breathed  through  it,  from  the  neighbour- 
ing thyme  and  mint  beds ;  and  sunshine  sifted  down 
through  its  leaves  in  an  intricate  and  exquisite  pat- 
tern; and  a  pair  of  catbirds,  nesting  in  the  shrubs 
close  by,  made  it  their  haunt  without  regard  to  Bar- 
bara's presence.  As  she  looked  at  this  dear  nook, 
with  all  its  memories  of  intimate  hours  and  dreams, 
Barbara  thought  to  herself  how  glad  she  was  that 
she  had  not  succeeded  in  running  away  from  Second 
Westings.  She  clambered  cleverly  into  the  tree, 
settled  herself  with  a  long  breath'  of  satisfaction, 
swung  Her  little  scarlet-shod  feet  idly  too  and  fro, 
and  made  a  long,  absorbing  survey  of  her  green 
realm.    Then,  locking  fier  ankles  lithely  as  only  3 


Barbara  Ladd  149 


slim  girl  can,  she  opened  her  book,  and  was  soon  en- 
grossed in  the  fortunes  of  Lovelace  and  Clarissa. 

About  the  time  that  Barbara  was  settling  herself 
in  the  apple-tree,  Robert  Gault  was  triumphantly 
pushing  Barbara's  canoe  to  land  through  the  gold- 
green  sedges  on  the  Second  Westings  shore  of  the 
little  lake.  With  pole  and  paddle  he  had  made  the 
ascent  of  the  stream  from  Gault  House,  having  been 
seized  that  morning  with  a  violent  conviction  that 
it  was  his  duty  to  return  the  canoe  without  delay. 
He  had  poled  through  the  rapids,  and  paddled 
eagerly  through  the  silent  solemnities  of  the  woods, 
too  intent  upon  his  purpose  to  be  alive  to  their 
mystic  influences.  The  furtive  eyes  that  watched 
him  from  pine-tree  boll  and  ironwood  bush,  from 
skyey  branch  or  moss-veiled  root,  touched  not  his 
consciousness.  To  his  self-centred  mood  the  peopled 
stillness  was  empty  as  a  desert.  His  eyes,  at  other 
times  alert  and  not  uninitiated,  were  turned  inward 
upon  his  own  dreams.  He  emerged  from  the  great 
shadows,  paddled  through  the  meadowy  windings 
with  their  iris-beds  and  lilies,  and  passed  at  length 
old  Debby's  clamorous  dooryard,  giving  hardly  a 
glance  to  the  green  slope  with  its  ducks  and  fowls, 
the  little  red-doored  cabin  against  its  trees,  or  old 
Debby  herself,  with  the  cock-eared  yellow  pup  beside 
her,  sitting  on  the  stoop.  He  was  in  a  hurry,  and 
had  caught  glimpses  of  the  open  waters  of  the  lake 


150  Barbara  Ladd 

beyond;  and  he  knew  from  Barbara's  description 
that  Mistress  Mehitable's  landing-place  was  straight 
across  the  lake. 

But  old  Debby,  sitting  knitting  in  the  sun  with 
the  cock-eared  yellow  pup  beside  her,  saw  him,  and 
chuckled  at  his  haste.  She  had  been  over  to  Second 
Westings  the  day  before,  and  had  got  the  whole 
story  from  Doctor  Jim.  She  had  made  up  her  mind 
to  keep  well  out  of  the  way,  till  Barbara's  indignation 
should  have  time  to  cool ;  but  she  was  mightily  inter- 
ested in  the  youth  who  had  been  so  readily  persuaded 
to  the  backing  of  Barbara's  mad  venture.  A  moment 
later  she  made  up  her  mind  that  she  must  have  a  good 
look  at  him,  a  word  with  him  if  possible.  She  got 
up  and  hobbled  actively  down  to  the  shore;  but 
Robert's  haste  had  carried  him  already  beyond  ear- 
shot. 

Following  the  path  up  from  the  lake-shore,  Robert 
crossed  the  cow-pasture  and  climbed  the  bars  back 
of  the  barn.  Here  he  was  met  and  challenged  by 
Keep,  the  mastiff,  who,  with  the  discernment  of  a 
well-bred  dog,  appreciated  Robert's  good  clothes, 
nosed  his  hand  cordially,  and  let  him  pass  without 
protest.  Keep  knew  a  gentleman  at  a  glance,  and 
was  convinced  that  good  manners  meant  good 
morals.  He  had  no  fear  of  Robert  setting  fire  to 
the  barn. 

Seeking  a  way  to  the  front  of  the  house,  Robert 


Barbara  Ladd  15 1 


passed  through  the  wicket  leading  into  the  back  gar- 
den. Suddenly,  between  the  tall  clumps  of  holly- 
hocks, he  stopped  short,  and  his  heart  gave  a  queer 
little  sliding  leap.  His  breath  came  quick  and  light, 
in  a  way  that  greatly  perplexed  him.  What  he  saw  to 
so  disturb  him  was  a  pair  of  little  scarlet  shoes,  two 
small  ankles,  and  a  few  inches  of  slim,  shapely  silk 
stockings,  lithely  intertwined,  and  vividly  in  evidence 
beneath  a  screen  of  apple-leaves. 

Robert  did  not  need  any  one  to  tell  him  that  the 
rest  of  the  bewildering  picture,  hidden  behind  the 
screen  of  apple-leaves,  was  the  small,  inspiring  lady, 
Mistress  Barbara  Ladd.  He  hesitated,  and  was  al- 
most on  the  point  of  slipping  away,  —  he  knew  not 
why,  for  the  life  of  him.  Then,  recovering  a  part 
of  his  composure,  he  stepped  forward  in  trepidation, 
hat  in  hand,  forgot  the  graceful  speeches  on  which 
he  was  wont  to  pride  himself,  and  stammered  — 
"  Mistress  Barbara !  —  I  beg  your  pardon !  " 

The  slim  ankles  unlocked,  "  Clarissa  "  fell  upon 
the  grass,  and  lightly  as  a  bird  Barbara  sprang  down 
from  her  perch,  unconscious,  unembarrassed, 
gracious  in  her  greetings.  She  smiled  him  radiant 
welcome,  frankly  pleased,  and  held  out  her  hand  to 
be  kissed. 

"  Why,  how  did  3^011  come  ?  "  she  cried,  gaily, 
"  stealing  in  this  way  through  the  back  premises  ?  " 


152  Barbara  Ladd 

"  By  water,  dear  lady,"  he  answered,  still  stam- 
mering.   "  I  brought  back  the  canoe,  you  know !  " 

"  By  my  dear  river,  and  through  the  great,  still 
woods !  "  she  exclaimed,  looking  him  over  with  clear 
eyes  of  approval.  "  How  lovely!  I  wish  I'd  been 
with  you !  " 

"  I  wish  you  had !  "  said  Robert,  with  devout  con- 
viction. 

"  But  how  tired  you  must  be,  all  that  journey 
against  the  current.  Really,  Robert,  it  was  very  nice 
of  you  to  come  so  soon !  " 

Now  Robert  was  in  a  sad  state  of  bewilderment, 
dazzled  by  eyes  and  lips  and  scarlet  shoes.  And  he 
was  further  shaken  from  his  customary  poise  by 
his  perception  of  Barbara's  change  in  the  arrange- 
ment of  her  hair,  and  by  what  seemed  a  sudden  in- 
crease in  her  stature  through  the  lengthening  of  her 
frocks.  Otherwise  he  would  not  have  been  so  stupid 
as  to  imagine  that  the  promptitude  of  his  coming 
called  for  any  apology  in  Barbara's  eyes,  whatever 
might  be  the  opinion  of  Doctor  John,  or  Doctor  Jim, 
or  Mistress  Mehitable  Ladd ! 

"  I  thought  I  ought  to  come  at  once,  you  know," 
he  explained,  "  to  bring  back  the  canoe!  Otherwise 
I  should  have  waited,  as  I  ought,  for  Mr.  Glenowen's 
coming,  and  an  invitation  from  him." 

"  Oh !  "  said  Barbara,  her  face  changing  slightly, 
her  voice  growing  a  little  cooler.    "  That  was  very 


Barbara  Ladd  153 


thoughtful  of  you.  I  couldn't  sleep  for  thinking  of 
the  canoe ! " 

Robert  looked  at  her  doubtfully,  wondering  if 
that  were  sarcasm  in  her  voice. 

"  It's  a  dear  canoe.    I  love  it !  "  said  he. 

"  I  wonder  you  did  not  want  to  keep  it  a  little 
longer,  then,  —  at  least,  till  Uncle  Bob  could  come 
and  send  you  a  proper,  formal  invitation  to  bring 
it  back !  "  said  Barbara. 

"  But  I  wanted  to  bring  it  back  now,  —  I  thought 
it  was  such  a  good  excuse  for  coming  at  once,  though 
I  knew  I  ought  to  have  waited  for  the  invitation,  of 
course,"  persisted  Robert,  vaguely  worried. 

"  Oh !  "  exclaimed  Barbara,  again,  allowing  her- 
self to  be  mollified  in  part,  but  still  feeling  a  shade 
of  disappointment.  She  was  too  inexperienced  to 
appreciate  the  tribute  of  Robert's  confusion  and  un- 
expected awkwardness.  She  liked  him  so  much 
better  in  his  grand,  elaborate,  self-possessed  manner, 
paying  stately  compliments,  making  her  feel  im- 
portant and  grown-up  by  formal  homage.  However, 
he  certainly  was  very  nice,  and  he  certainly  looked 
very  distinguished ;  and  she  realised  that,  for  all  his 
apparent  solicitude  about  returning  the  canoe,  the 
canoe  was  not  his  reason  for  coming  so  soon.  She 
would  forgive  him, — but  she  would  punish  him! 
In  fact,  she  was  making  progress  in  the  arts  of  the 
imperishable  feminine. 


154  Barbara   Ladd 

»_» , * 

"  Well,  we  shall  all  be  glad  to  see  you,  Robert," 
she  said.  "  And  now  you  must  go  straight  to  Doc- 
tor Jim,  who  did  invite  you,  as  you  seem  to  have 
forgotten!  You  go  through  that  white  gate,  over 
there,  and  turn  to  the  left,  and  then  the  first  turn 
to  the  right  puts  you  right  on  the  main  street. 
You're  almost  at  Doctor  Jim's  then,  —  any  one  will 
point  it  out  to  you." 

"  But,  —  I  didn't  come  to  see  Doctor  Jim,"  pro- 
tested Robert,  much  taken  aback.  "  I  came  to  bring 
back  the  canoe,  you  know  !  " 

"Of  course,  I  understand!"  said  Barbara,  sweetly. 
"  Tell  Doctor  Jim  and  Doctor  John  that  I  want  them 
to  bring  you  back  here  presently,  in  an  hour  or  two, 
to  present  you  to  Aunt  Hitty.,  and  have  tea  with  us !  " 

"  But  can't  I  stay  a  little  while  now,  —  while  no 
one  knows  I  am  here  at  all?  "  pleaded  Robert. 

Ordinarily,  this  was  just  what  would  have  seemed 
reasonable  and  delightful  to  Barbara.  But  just  now 
it  pleased  her  to  discipline  the  boy. 

"  Decidedly  not,  Robert !  "  said  she.  "  You  know 
how  careful  you  are  about  etiquette,  —  so  troubled 
over  the  idea  of  coming  here  at  all  on  the  mere  invita- 
tion of  mere  me!  You  shall  not  talk  to  me  any  more 
till  you  have  been  properly  presented  to  Aunt  Hitty ! 
Besides,  I  am  just  at  a  most  interesting  place  in  this 
lovely  book,"  —  and  she  snatched  "  Clarissa  "  up 
from  the  grass,  where  it  had  lain  forgotten  since 


Barbara  Ladd  155 


Robert's  appearance,  —  "  and  I  can't  really  take  my 
mind  oft"  it  till  I  find  out  what  is  going  to  happen. 
I  will  see  you  in  the  house,  with  Aunt  Hitty,  in  — 
let  me  see  —  about  an  hour  and  a  half !  Now  go 
right  away !  " 

Robert  looked  very  miserable,  but  bowed  sub- 
mission, and  backed  off. 

"  How  will  Mistress  Ladd  receive  me?  "  he  asked, 
doubtfully. 

"  Oh,"  replied  Barbara,  one  small  brown  hand 
on  the  apple-tree  as  she  waited  for  Robert  to  depart 
ere  she  climbed  back  to  her  nook,  "  Aunt  Hitty  is 
just  perfect.  She  will  be  very  nice  to  you,  and  will 
quite  approve  of  you,  I  know.  Since  everything  has 
turned  out  for  the  best,  she  has  already  forgiven  you 
for  leading  her  young  niece  into  mischief  the  way 
you  did!  " 

Robert  stared  at  her  in  speechless  amazement.  But 
Barbara  would  not  let  him  ask  any  more  questions. 
With  a  mocking  little  grimace  at  his  confusion,  she 
pointed  to  the  white  gate. 

"  Go  away  immediately !  "  she  commanded.  "  And 
be  sure  you  come  back  in  an  hour  and  a  half !  " 

Robert  turned  and  strode  off  with  an  aggrieved 
air,  between  the  hollyhock  rows.  When  he  was  half 
way  to  the  gate,  Barbara,  who  had  stood  looking 
after  him  with  a  smile  on  her  lips,  called  imperiously : 

"Robert!" 


156  Barbara  Ladd 

He  turned  quickly,  and  snatched  off  his  hat. 

"What  is  it,  my  lady?" 

"You  forgot  to  help  me  into  my  tree!"  said 
Barbara. 

He  was  beside  her  in  an  instant,  his  face  brighten- 
ing. He  knelt  on  one  knee,  and  held  out  his  two 
hands  firmly  locked,  to  form  a  sort  of  stirrup.  Set- 
ting one  light  foot  into  this  support,  Barbara  sprang 
up  and  in  a  flash  was  perched  gracefully  in  her  niche. 
It  was  done  with  such  swiftness  that  Robert  had 
hardly  time  to  realise  her  foot  had  touched  him. 
She  laughed  down  upon  him  with  gay  commenda- 
tion. 

"  That  was  very  handsomely  done,  indeed, 
Robert !  "  she  declared.  "  Now  hurry  right  away 
to  Doctor  Jim,  or  you'll  never  manage  to  get  back 
in  one  hour  and  a  half !  "  And  she  buried  her  eyes 
in  the  first  page  at  which  "  Clarissa  "  chanced  to 
open. 

Robert  hesitated,  opened  his  lips  as  if  to  speak, 
and  went  without  a  word.  Barbara,  watching  him 
from  the  corner  of  her  eye,  was  puzzled  at  the  look 
upon  his  face,  but  felt  satisfied  that  it  was  not  dis- 
pleasure. About  half-way  up  the  walk  toward  the 
gate,  when  he  believed  himself  unobserved,  Robert 
gazed  curiously  at  the  palms  wherein  the  little 
foot  had  rested  for  that  fraction  of  a  heart-beat. 
Light  as  was  the  touch,  it  had  left  a  subtle  tingling 


Barbara  Ladd  157 


behind  it.  He  pressed  the  place  to  his  lips.  This 
action  astonished  Barbara,  but  greatly  interested  her, 
and  gave  her,  at  the  same  time,  an  inexplicable  thrill. 
Her  heart  understood  it,  indeed,  while  it  remained 
an  enigma  to  her  brain.  And  purposeless,  profitless, 
absurd  though  it  seemed  to  her,  that  Robert  should 
kiss  his  own  hand,  she  decided  nevertheless  that  in 
some  way  the  action  had  expressed  a  more  fervent 
homage  to  her  than  when  the  hand  that  he  kissed  was 
hers.    She  forgot  to  go  on  reading  the  excellent  Mr. 


Richardson's  romance. 


CHAPTER   XV. 

Mistress  Mehitable  liked  Robert,  whose  bear- 
ing and  breeding  were  in  all  ways  much  to  her  taste. 
She  had  seen  him  when  a  babe  in  arms,  just  before 
his  father  and  mother  had  taken  him  away  from 
Gault  House  to  New  York.  So  gracious  was  she, 
that  Robert  was  filled  with  wonder  as  he  thought 
of  the  piteous  story  which  Barbara  had  told  him  in 
the  canoe.  But  this  wonder  was  as  nothing,  com- 
pared to  the  amazement  with  which  he  viewed  the 
warm  affection  between  Barbara  and  her  aunt. 
What  could  it  all  mean  ?  It  was  plain  that  they  two 
understood  each  other,  trusted  each  other,  admired 
each  other,  loved  each  other.  He  had  an  uneasy  feel- 
ing that  Barbara  had  made  a  fool  of  him.  Then,  as 
his  dignity  was  beginning  to  feel  ruffled,  and  his 
grave  young  face  to  darken,  he  would  remember 
other  details  of  that  eventful  afternoon  which  for- 
bade him  to  question  the  girl's  sincerity.  At  this  the 
cloud  would  lift.  There  was  a  mystery  behind  it 
all,  of  course,  which  he  would  doubtless,  in  his  de- 
termined fashion,  succeed  in  penetrating.  Mean- 
while, every  one  seemed  extremely  happy, — Barbara 

i53 


Barbara  Ladd  159 


gaily,  whimsically  gracious,  Mistress  Mehitable 
composedly  glad,  Doctor  Jim  as  boisterous  in  his 
joy  as  good  manners  would  permit,  Doctor  John 
quizzically  approving,  and  filled  with  mellow  mirth. 
Robert  was  made  to  feel  himself  an  honoured  guest, 
for  his  own  sake  as  well  as  for  the  sake  of  his 
parents ;  and  in  this  cordial  atmosphere  he  soon  jus- 
tified all  good  opinions.  Barbara  was  intensely 
gratified  with  him.  She  audaciously  claimed  credit 
for  having  discovered  him,  and  rescued  him  from  the 
barbaric  wilderness  that  lay  beyond  Second  West- 
ings. She  began  to  plan  expeditions  and  amuse- 
ments to  make  his  visit  memorable;  and  when  he 
announced  his  intention  of  returning  to  Gault  House 
on  the  morrow,  there  was  a  unanimous  protest. 
Mistress  Mehitable  said  it  was  not  to  be  heard  of, 
for  one  moment.  Doctor  Jim  growled  that  his  hos- 
pitality was  not  to  be  flouted  in  any  such  fashion. 
Doctor  John  levelled  bushy  eyebrows  at  him,  and 
suggested  that  no  true  Gault  would  run  away  in  the 
hour  of  triumph. 

"  You  will  do  nothing  of  the  kind,  Robert,"  de- 
creed Barbara,  with  finality.  "  We  want  you  here. 
I  wonder  you  are  not  ashamed,  after  all  the  trouble 
you  made  for  us  so  lately,  when  you  were  old 
enough  and  big  enough  to  know  better !  " 

Robert's  face  flushed  with  pleasure  at  all  this 
warmth ;   and  he  hugely  wanted  to  stay.    But  with 


160  Barbara  Ladd 

astonishing  discretion  he  refused  to  be  persuaded. 
Some  intuition  taught  him  the  wisdom  of  timely 
reserve.  Without  at  all  formulating  any  theory  on 
the  subject,  which  would  have  been  impossible  to 
such  inexperience  as  his,  he  felt  instinctively  that 
at  this  moment,  when  she  was  most  gracious  to  him, 
a  judicious  absence  would  best  fix  him  in  Barbara's 
interest.  He  said  there  were  matters  to  be  attended 
to  for  his  grandmother  which  would  not  well  bear 
delay.  At  this  unexpected  firmness  on  the  part  of  her 
cavalier,  Barbara  was  so  annoyed  that  for  nearly 
an  hour  she  seemed  to  forget  his  existence;  but 
Robert  hid  his  discomfort  under  an  easy  cheerful- 
ness, and  no  one  else  seemed  to  notice  the  passing 
shadow.  Mistress  Mehitable  insisted  that  the  guests 
should  stay  to  sup  with  her  and  Barbara;  and  the 
boy's  coming  was  made  a  little  festival.  Mistress 
Mehitable  was  one  of  those  notable  housekeepers 
who  seem  to  accomplish  great  things  with  little  effort 
by  being  craftily  forehanded.  Before  anything  was 
said  of  supper  she  had  vanished  for  a  few  minutes 
to  the  kitchen;  and  in  those  few  minutes  she  had 
planned  with  Abby  for  a  repast -worthy  the  event. 
The  larder  of  the  Ladd  homestead  was  kept  vict- 
ualled beyond  peril  of  any  surprise;  and  Mistress 
Mehitable,  for  all  her  ethereal  mould  and  mien,  be- 
lieved in  the  efficacy  of  good  eating  and  good  drink- 
ing.    Well  regulated  lives,  she  held,  should  also  be 


Barbara  Ladd  161 


well  nourished,  and  her  Puritan  conscience  was  not 
illiberal  in  regard  to  the  seemly  pleasures  of  the 
board. 

Both  Doctor  John  and  Doctor  Jim,  as  befitted 
their  stature,  were  valiant  trenchermen;  and  Robert 
was  a  boy;  and  the  lavish  delicacies  of  Abby's  serv- 
ing met  with  that  reception  which  was  the  best 
tribute  to  their  worth.  Gaiety  made  herself  hand- 
maid to  appetite ;  and  the  ale  was  nutty-mellow  from 
last  October ;  and  Mistress  Mehitable's  old  Madeira 
wine,  of  which  herself  partook  but  sparingly,  was 
fiery-pungent  on  the  tongue.  As  she  toasted  him, 
and  her  blue  eyes  sparkled  upon  him  over  the  glass, 
Robert  wondered  anew  how  Barbara  could  have 
wanted  to  run  away  from  so  admirable  an  aunt.  As 
for  Barbara,  reduced  for  a  little  to  silence  by  supreme 
content,  she  sipped  at  her  Angelica  cordial,  surveyed 
Mistress  Mehitable  with  grateful  ardour,  and  took  it 
all  as  largess  to  herself. 

At  last,  with  a  happy  sigh,  she  cried,  "  Oh,  if 
only  Uncle  Bob  could  have  come  in  time  for  this !  " 
And  so  electric  with  sympathy  was  the  air  that  on 
the  word  every  eye  turned  and  glanced  at  the  door, 
as  if  expecting  that  a  wish  so  well-timed  might 
bring  fruition  on  the  instant.  There  was  silence 
for  some  seconds. 

Then  Mistress  Mehitable  said,  "  He  will  be  here 
in  a  very  few  days,  dear!     And  then  you,  Robert, 


1 62  Barbara  Ladd 

must  come  to  us  again  without  delay.  I  agree  with 
Barbara  that  nothing  I  can  think  of  except  Mr. 
Glenowen's  presence  could  add  to  our  happiness 
to-night!" 

After  supper  there  was  music  in  the  candle-lit 
drawing-room,  Mistress  Mehitable  having  a  rare  gift 
for  the  harpsichord,  and  Doctor  Jim  a  nice  art  in  the 
rendering  of  certain  old  English  ballads  of  the 
robuster  sort.  Where  they  might  have  seemed  to 
the  ladies'  ears  a  trifle  more  robust  than  nice,  Doctor 
Jim  had  fined  them  down  to  a  fitting  delicacy.  But 
they  suited  his  rolling  bass,  and  he  loved  them 
because,  being  Cavalier-born,  they  appealed  to  his 
king-loving  sympathies.  Doctor  Jim  was  an  exem- 
plary Congregationalism  but  solely  by  force  of  en- 
vironment, Congregationalism  being  the  creed  of  all 
the  gentry  of  that  region.  Episcopalianism  he 
looked  upon  with  a  distrust  mingled  with  affection; 
but  in  all  other  respects  he  was  a  king's  man,  through 
and  through,  an  aristocrat,  and  a  good-natured 
scorner  of  the  masses.  It  was  a  stupendous  triumph 
for  accident  and  atmosphere  to  have  succeeded  in 
fitting  Doctor  Jim  to  his  inherited  environment  of 
Second  Westings.  His  Congregationalism  was  a 
thing  that  might  conceivably  be  changed  to  meet 
changed  conditions ;  while  his  Toryism  was  bred  in 
the  bone.  With  Mistress  Mehitable,  on  the  other 
hand,   her    Congregationalism   was    deep-rooted,   a 


Barbara  Ladd  163 


matter  of  conscience.  It  was  by  conscience,  too,  no 
less  than  by  blood,  that  she  was  an  aristocrat.  She 
was  a  royalist,  a  Tory,  no  less  unquestioning  than 
Doctor  Jim,  but  this  by  a  chance  election  of  that 
strenuous  conscience  which,  by  a  different  chance 
twist,  would  have  made  her  an  equally  sincere  Whig. 
When  Doctor  Jim  had  sung  till  Doctor  John  told 
him  he  was  getting  hoarse  and  spoiling  his  voice, 
Barbara,  in  a  burst  of  daring,  started  up  a  wild  plan- 
tation song,  patting  her  accompaniment.  To  Mistress 
Mehitable,  as  to  Robert,  this  was  an  undreamed 
novelty,  and  their  eyes  opened  wide  in  wonder.  At 
first  they  thought  it  barbarous,  but  in  a  few  minutes 
the  piquing  rhythms  and  irresponsible  cadences 
caught  them,  and  they  listened  in  rapture.  Barbara's 
store  of  these  songs  was  a  rich  one,  and  she  had  per- 
fected the  rendering  in  many  a  secret  performance 
to  the  audience  of  Doctor  John  and  Doctor  Jim. 
When  she  was  quite  sure  of  the  effect  she  was  pro- 
ducing, she  sprang  to  her  feet,  flung  her  hair  loose 
by  a  quick  movement  of  both  hands,  and  began  to 
dance  as  she  sang.  And  nowT,  to  the  ever-growing 
amazement  of  Mistress  Mehitable,  Doctor  Jim  took 
up  the  patting,  while  Doctor  John,  seating  himself 
at  the  harpsichord,  began  a  strange  staccato  picking 
of  the  keys.  Then  Barbara  stopped  singing,  and 
gave  herself  up  wholly  to  the  dance.  She  danced 
with  arms  and  hands  and  head  and  feet,  and  every 


164  Barbara  Ladd 


slender  curve  of  her  young  body.  She  moved  like 
flames.  Her  eyes  and  lips  and  teeth  were  a  radiance 
through  the  live,  streaming  darknesses  of  her  hair. 
Light,  swift,  unerring,  ecstatic,  it  was  like  the  most 
impassioned  of  bird-songs  translated  into  terms  of 
pure  motion.  Doctor  John  played  faster  and  faster 
his  wild,  monotonous  melody.  Doctor  Jim  patted 
harder  and  harder.  Barbara's  dance  grew  madder 
and  stranger,  till  at  last,  with  a  little  breathless  cry 
that  was  half  a  sob,  she  stopped,  darted  across  the 
room,  flung  herself  down,  and  buried  her  dishevelled 
head  in  Mistress  Mehitable's  lap. 

On  ordinary  occasions  Mistress  Mehitable  would 
have  felt  inclined  to  hold  that  anything  so  extraor- 
dinary, so  utterly  outside  the  range  of  all  concep- 
tions, and  at  the  same  time  so  very  beautiful,  must 
be  wrong.  Now,  however,  she  was  under  the  spell 
of  Barbara  and  under  the  spell  of  the  whole  situa- 
tion. "  I  cannot  see  any  possible  harm  in  it !  "  she 
said  to  herself.  And  to  Barbara  she  said,  tenderly 
and  deftly  arranging  the  disordered  locks : 

"  Most  beautiful,  and  most  singular,  dear.  I  sup- 
pose that  is  your  dance  of  '  Maryland  Memories,'  is 
it  not?  It  seems  to  me  not  only  amazingly  beautiful, 
but  as  if  it  might  be  the  most  wholesome  and  desir- 
able of  exercises." 

Barbara  gurgled  a  gasping  laugh  from  the  depths 
of  Mistress  Mehitable's  taffeta.     It  had  never  oc- 


Barbara  Ladd  165 


curred  to  her  that  these  mad  negro  dances,  in  which 
she  found  expression  for  so  much  in  herself  which 
she  did  not  understand,  could  be  regarded  in  the 
light  of  exercise.  But  she  was  glad  indeed  if  they 
could  be  so  regarded  by  Aunt  Hitty. 

"  Oh,  yes,  honey,"  she  agreed,  in  haste.  "  I'm 
sure  it's  wholesome;  and  I  know  it's  desirable, — 
isn't  it?" 

This  appeal  was  to  every  one,  but  it  was  Robert, 
at  last  awaking  from  his  rapture  and  finding  breath, 
who  answered : 

"  There  was  never  anything  else  so  wonderful  in 
all  the  world,"  he  said,  solemnly. 

Doctor  John  and  Doctor  Jim,  with  one  impulse, 
jumped  up,  each  seized  one  of  Barbara's  hands,  and 
plucked  her  to  her  feet.  They  then  stood  hand  in 
hand  in  a  row  before  Mistress  Mehitable  and 
Robert,  bowing  their  thanks  for  such  appreciation 
of  their  poor  efforts  to  please. 

"  We  are  going  to  London  to  perform  before  the 
king !  "  declared  Doctor  Jim. 

Mistress  Mehitable  gravely  took  a  shilling  from 
her  purse,  and  bestowed  it  upon  Doctor  John  because 
he  was  the  tallest.  He  pretended  to  spit  on  it,  for 
luck,  but  kissed  it  instead,  and  slipped  it  into  the 
bosom  of  his  ruffled  shirt.  When  the  approving 
laughter  had  subsided,  Mistress  Mehitable  said, 
musingly : 


1 66  Barbara  Ladd 

"  I  see  now  how  you  have  been  teaching  Barbara 
her  Latin.  It  was  that  peculiar  dialect  of  Latin  that 
prevails  in  Maryland !  " 

After  this  a  sack  posset  was  mixed  by  Mistress 
Mehitable,  with  the  eager  assistance  of  every  one 
but  Robert,  who  was.  still  too  much  possessed  by 
Barbara's  dancing  to  do  more  than  stand  about  and 
get  in  the  way,  and  smile  a  gravely  fatuous  smile 
whenever  spoken  to. 

When  the  posset  began  to  go  around,  calling  forth 
encomiums  at  every  sip,  Doctor  Jim  demanded  the 
cards.  There  was  silence.  To  Robert,  just  from  the 
Tory  circles  of  New  York,  it  seemed  the  most  natural 
thing  in  the  world.  To  Barbara  it  seemed  natural, 
but  foreign  to  Mistress  Mehitable  and  Second  West- 
ings. To  Doctor  John  it  seemed  right  and  desirable, 
but  he  chuckled  and  said  nothing,  being  aware  of 
Mistress  Mehitable's  views.  And  this  time  Mistress 
Mehitable  was  firm. 

"  No,  Jim,"  said  she,  "  we  won't  play.  I  know 
good  people  do  play,  —  people  who  know  just  as 
well  as  I  do  what  is  right  and  what  is  wrong.  But 
for  some  reason  card-playing  does  not  seem  right  to 
me.  You  know  Doctor  Sawyer  would  strongly 
disapprove !  " 

"  Officially,  that's  all,  dear  lady! "  corrected  Doc- 
tor John. 

"  But  you  have  them  in  the  house,  —  yonder  in 


Barbara  Ladd  167 


that  very  drawer,  most  gracious  mistress !  "  persisted 
Doctor  Jim. 

"  My  dear  father  used  them,"  confessed  Mistress 
Mehitable.  "  Therefore  I  would  not  for  a  moment 
think  of  refusing"  tx>  have  them  in  my  house.  But 
I  think  it  is  better  not  to  play,  Jim." 

And  though  Mistress  Mehitable  spoke  with  appeal 
and  apology  rather  than  with  decision,  the  matter 
was  plainly  settled.  There  was  nothing  to  do  but 
tell  riddles  and  drink  up  the  rest  of  the  posset.  The 
pervading  satisfaction  was  in  no  way  checked  by 
Doctor  Jim's  failure,  for  all  agreed  that  cards  were 
stupid  anyway.  Barbara,  in  spite  of  her  excitement, 
and  to  her  intense  self-disgust,  began  to  grow  sleepy. 
She  was  horribly  afraid  she  might  show  it,  which, 
for  one  but  forty-eight  hours  grown-up,  would  have 
been  humiliating  beyond  words.  She  felt  herself 
divided  between  a  fear  lest  so  perfect  an  evening 
should  end  too  soon,  and  an  equally  harassing  fear 
lest  it  should  end  not  soon  enough.  At  length  the 
keen  and  loving  eyes  of  Doctor  John  discerned  her 
trouble;  and  at  the  dissolute  hour  of  half-past  ten 
he  broke  up  the  party.  Adieux  were  made  with  a 
w^armth,  an  abandon  of  homage  held  in  fetters  of 
elaborate  courtliness,  which  might  have  seemed  ex- 
cessive at  a  less  propitious  conjunction  of  time  and 
sentiment.  At  last  the  three,  Doctor  John,  Doctor 
Jim,  and  Robert,  found  themselves  arm-in-arm  on 


l68  Barbara  Lacld 

the  street,  and  all  talking  at  once,  overbrimming  with 
happiness  and  reciprocal  congratulations,  as  they 
took  their  discreet  way  homeward. 

Barbara  and  Mistress  Mehitable,  left  alone, 
silently  put  out  the  lights.  Then,  each  lighting  her 
candle,  they  paused  at  the  head  of  the  stairs  to  say 
good  night.  Each  set  down  her  candle  on  the  little 
mahogany  table  under  the  clock,  and  looked  into  the 
other's  eyes.  Barbara  was  first  to  break  the  sweet 
but  too  searching  scrutiny.  She  flung  both  arms 
around  Mistress  Mehitable's  neck,  and  kissed  her 
with  a  tremulous  fervour  that  told  much.  Mistress 
Mehitable,  whose  eyes  were  brighter  than  Barbara 
had  ever  guessed  that  they  could  be,  pressed  her  in  a 
close  embrace  which  concealed  much,  even  from 
Mistress  Mehitable  herself.  Then  Barbara,  after 
whispering  something  to  the  kittens,  went  straight 
to  bed,  and  straight  to  sleep.  But  "Mistress  Mehit- 
able sat  looking  out  of  her  window. 


CHAPTER   XVI. 

It  had  been  arranged  that  Robert  should  borrow 
a  horse  from  Doctor  John's  stables,  ride  it  over  to 
Gault  House,  and  keep  it  there  till  his  return  to 
Second  Westings.  But  as  he  was  strolling  down  the 
village  street  before  breakfast,  he  saw,  in  a  paddock 
beside  an  unpretentious  cottage,  a  splendid  Narra- 
gansett  pacer,  a  dark  sorrel,  one  of  the  handsomest 
of  the  breed  that  he  had  ever  seen.  He  had  long 
coveted  one  of  these  horses,  famous  in  all  the  thir- 
teen colonies  for  their  easy  gait,  speed  over  rough 
country,  and  unparalleled  endurance.  With  charac- 
teristic promptness  in  getting  to  his  point,  he  went  in, 
interviewed  the  owner,  tried  the  horse,  loved  it,  and 
asked  the  price.  The  owner  was  not  anxious  to  sell ; 
but  when  he  found  out  who  the  would-be  purchaser 
was,  and  the  liberal  price  he  was  ready  to  pay,  the 
prospect  of  an  immediate  draft  on  the  bank  at  Hart- 
ford proved  irresistible,  and  Robert  rode  off  with 
his  prize.  He  knew  horse-flesh,  and  did  not  grudge 
the  price;  and  both  Doctor  John  and  Doctor  Jim, 
who  knew  this  sorrel  pacer  well,  were  constrained  to 
commend  the  purchase,  though  to  them  k  seemed 

269 


170  Barbara  Ladd 


that  so  weighty  an  action  demanded,  if  but  for  form's 
sake,  the  tribute  of  delay  and  pondering. 

"  Buy  a  horse  like  that,  Robert,  in  three  shakes 
of  a  ram's  tail  ?  It's  undignified !  "  roared  Doctor 
Jim,  eyeing  the  beast  with  unmixed  approbation. 
"  It's  an  insult  to  the  horse.  And  it's  a  slight  upon 
the  value  of  our  assistance,  you  cock-sure  young 
rascal.  But  it's  just  the  mulish  way  your  father 
would  have  gone  and  done  it,  so  I  suppose  we  must 
forgive  you." 

Doctor  John,  meanwhile,  had  been  handling  the 
beast  critically,  and  looking  at  its  teeth. 

"  Worth  all  you  gave  for  him,  Bobby ;  and  not  a 
day  over  five  years  old !  "  was  the  verdict.  "I  see 
you're  old  enough  to  go  about  alone.  Don't  you 
mind  what  Jim  Pigeon  says.  He'd  have  had  you 
run  to  him  and  ask  if  you  might  have  a  horse  of 
your  own,  and  then  get  him  and  me  to  go  down 
and  look  at  the  beast,  and  come  back  here  and  talk 
it  all  over  in  council,  and  then  go  back  and  bully 
Enoch  Barnes  some  more  about  the  price,  and  then 
all  three  of  us  ride  the  beast  up  to  Mistress  Mehit- 
able's,  to  ask  the  opinion  of  her  and  Barbara  on 
the  subject,  and  then  —  " 

But  Robert  interrupted  at  this  point  in  the  tirade. 

"  That  would  have  been  a  good  idea,"  he  asserted, 
regretfully.  "  I  wish  I  had  thought  to  consult  the 
ladies.    But,  you  know,  I  knew  that  horse  was  just 


Barbara   Ladd  171 


the  one  I'd  so  long  been  wanting  the  moment  I  set 
eyes  on  him.  So  I  didn't  dare  wait,  lest  some  one 
else  should  come  along  and  snap  him  up.  Of  course 
you  both  know  a  thousand  times  more  about  horses 
than  I  do,  —  but  I  knew  enough  to  know  I  wanted 
this  one !  " 

"  You  generally  seem  to  know  what  you  want, 
Master  Gault !  "  said  Doctor  Jim.  "  And  you  seem 
like  to>  get  it,  generally,  if  I  don't  mistake  the  cut 
of  you,  —  eh,  what  ?  " 

"  Tut,  tut,"  said  Doctor  John,  scowling  upon  him 
quizzically.  "  That's  all  very  well  as  far  as  horses 
are  concerned,  and  men!  But  wait  till  it  comes  to 
women,  Robert.  You've  a  lot  to  learn,  my  son.  If 
I'm  not  much  mistaken,  you'll  be  taught  a  lot,  and 
not  spared  in  the  teaching!" 

"  I'm  always  anxious  to  learn,"  answered  Robert, 
modestly. 

"  You  will !     You  will !  "  said  Doctor  John. 

Breakfast  was  a  substantial  meal  of  boiled  "  Yok- 
eag  "  with  molasses,  and  broiled  salmon,  and  ven- 
ison cutlets,  and  fried  ham,  and  rich  guava  jelly 
from  the  West  Indies.  Robert  was  surprised  to 
see  each  of  his  friends  preface  the  repast  with  a 
quart  mug  of  the  hardest  and  headiest  old  cider, 
he  himself  being  accustomed  to  a  small  cup  of  light 
ale  merely,  or  a  sip  of  claret,  at  this  hour.  Both 
Doctor  John  and  Doctor  Jim  assured  him  that  there 


172  Barbara  Ladd 

was  nothing  like  sound  cider  to  tone  up  the  stomach 
for  its  day's  adventures;  and  on  their  advice  he 
tried  it,  though  sparingly,  and  therefore  with  no 
tragic  results. 

After  breakfast,  he  was  so  obviously  restless  that 
the  big-hearted  brothers  made  no  effort  to  detain 
him.  With  heavy  hands  upon  his  shoulders,  they 
told  him  to  make  the  least  possible  delay  in  his  re- 
turn, and  to  bear  in  mind  how  warm  the  welcome 
ever  awaiting  him  at  Second  Westings. 

"  How  like  to  Richard  in  the  saddle!  "  exclaimed 
Doctor  John,  when  Robert  had  mounted  the  sorrel 
pacer. 

"  And  that's  a  compliment  not  many  a  lad  of  your 
age  could  win,  my  son !  "  said  Doctor  John. 

Robert's  dark  face  flushed  with  pleasure. 

"  I  try  hard  to  be  as  like  my  father  as  possible," 
said  he.  "  Don't  you  think  I  might  properly  ride 
around  and  pay  my  respects  to  the  ladies  before  I 
leave?" 

"Unquestionably  you  might!  Ton  my  word  a 
capital  idea !  "  laughed  Doctor  Jim,  with  huge  de- 
rision. 

"  Unquestionably,  my  boy,  you  would  find  your- 
self in  hot  water  if  you  didn't !  "  said  Doctor  John. 

So  Robert,  without  more  ado,  turned  the  head  of 
his   Narragansett  pacer  toward  Westings   House, 


Barbara  Ladd  173 


whose  wide  white  gables  were  partly  visible  through 
the  trees. 

A  very  erect,  graceful,  and  masterful  young  figure 
he  made,  as  he  reined  in  his  tall  sorrel  before  Mis- 
tress Mehitahle's  porch.  Mistress  Mehitable  from 
her  window  above  had  seen  him  coming,  and  was  on 
the  steps  to  greet  him.  He  flung  himself  from  the 
saddle,  kissed  her  hand  deferentially,  thanked  her 
with  fervour  for  her  delightful  hospitality,  —  and 
at  the  same  time  cast  a  solicitous  eye  about  the  walks 
and  windows,  wondering  where  Barbara  could  be. 
Mistress  Mehitable  had  an  amused  smile,  but  would 
not  help  him.  She  said  polite  things,  and  assured 
him  of  the  pleasure  with  which  she  would  look  for- 
ward to  his  next  visit,  —  and  even  added  that  he 
had  better  not  postpone  that  next  visit  beyond  five 
or  six  days,  or  a  week  at  most,  as  Mr.  Glenowen  was 
expected  at  once,  and  might  not  be  able  to  stay  long 
at  Second  Westings.  But  of  Barbara  she  said  not 
a  word.  Robert  showed  her,  with  pride,  his  sorrel 
pacer,  related  with  an  abstracted  air  the  circum- 
stances of  its  purchase,  and  enlarged  upon  the  special 
merits  of  the  breed,  while  Mistress  Mehitable  patted 
the  silky  white  nose,  and  murmured  boundless  ad- 
miration.   But  still  no  sign,  no  word,  of  Barbara. 

At  last  Robert  could  contain  himself  no  longer. 

"  I  ought  to  be  on  the  road,"  he  stammered,  "  but 
I  should  be  sorry  to  leave  without  making  my  adieux 
to  Mistress  Barbara.    Is  she  within  ?  '* 


174  Barbara  Ladd 

"She  went  out  about  half  an  hour  ago!"  said 
Mistress  Mehitable,  "  and  did  not  say  where  she  was 
going!" 

Robert's  face  fell  so  pathetically  that  Mistress 
Mehitable  felt  a  little  flush  of  resentment  against 
Barbara  for  her  cruelty. 

"  She  left  kindest  messages  for  you,"  she  con- 
tinued, hastily.  "  She  told  me  to  say  how  sorry  she 
was  not  to  see  you  this  morning,  and  that  she  would 
never  forgive  you  if  you  did  not  come  again  to 
Second  Westings  very  soon.  And  I  was  to  say  good- 
bye to  you  for  her !  " 

"  I  thank  you,"  said  Robert,  heavily.  "  Pray  you 
give  her  my  devotions,  and  tell  her  how  grieved  I 
am  to  be  denied  the  privilege  of  paying  them  in 
person.  I  kiss  your  hand  again,  dear  Mistress 
Ladd ! "  And  with  that  he  rode  off  musingly, 
through  a  morning  whose  sunlight  had  on  the  sudden 
lost  its  sparkle,  whose  spicy  airs  had  all  at  once  lost 
their  zest.  His  pride  in  the  new  pacer,  which  he  had 
hoped  to  show  off  to  Barbara,  was  all  fallen  flat. 
He  forced  the  restive  beast  to  walk  soberly  for  some 
moments.  Then  a  swift  heat  of  anger,  a  sense  of 
undeserved  injury,  went  over  him.  He  swore  he 
would  come  no  more  to  Second  Westings  all  that 
summer;  and  setting  spurs  to  the  willing  sorrel, 
he  tore  away  down  the  road  at  a  pounding  gallop. 


CHAPTER   XVII. 

The  road  toward  Westings  Landing,  which  was 
the  shortest  way  to  Gault  House,  was  joined  about 
a  mile  out  by  another,  equally  rough  and  unfriendly 
to  travel,  coming  from  Westings  Centre.  Robert 
had  passed  this  junction  at  full  gallop,  but  a  few 
rods  beyond  a  stretch  of  mire  compelled  him  to  rein 
in  and  pick  his  way.  As  he  did  so  he  caught  a  sound 
of  beating  hoofs  behind  him,  and  turned  in  the  saddle 
to  see  who  came. 

Careering  recklessly  down  the  road  from  West- 
ings Centre,  her  black  curls  flying  from  beneath  the 
rim  of  her  little  white  beaver,  came  a  slim  figure  in 
a  black  habit  on  a  great  black  horse.  She  burst  into 
a  peal  of  laughter  as  Robert  turned,  and  cried,  gaily : 

"  I'm  coming.    Wait  for  me,  Robert !  " 

Robert  wheeled  his  horse  as  if  on  a  pivot,  fairly 
lifted  him  with  voice  and  spur,  and  was  with  her 
in  a  few  great  strides. 

"  You!  "  was  all  his  voice  could  say;  but  his  face 
said  so  much  more  that  the  greeting  did  not  seem 
curt  to  Barbara.     Her  small  face  was  radiant  with 

175 


176  Barbara   Ladd 

excitement,  audacity,  and  delight.  At  the  beginning 
of  the  miry  ground  she  reined  in,  patted  her  beast's 
wet  neck,  and  said,  breathlessly : 

"  I  thought  you  might  like  me  to  ride  a  little  way 
with  you,  Robert,  to  make  sure  of  your  getting  the 
right  road.  Wasn't  it  very  nice  of  me,  —  when  you 
don't  one  bit  deserve  any  such  attention?  " 

"  You  are  an  angel !  "  cried  Robert,  in  an  ecstasy. 

Barbara  laughed  clear  and  high  at  this. 

"  Oh! "  she  shrilled,  melodiously  derisive,  "  that's 
what  /  think  I  am,  of  course.  But  no  one  has  ever 
agreed  with  me  after  knowing  me  more  than  three 
days.  This  is  your  third  day,  Robert.  It's  well  for 
me  you're  going  while  you  labour  under  this  flatter- 
ing delusion." 

"  It's  no  delusion,"  averred  Robert,  stoutly,  far 
past  wit,  and  with  no  weapon  left  but  bluntness. 
"  You  are  the  loveliest  thing  in  the  world." 

This,  in  Barbara's  own  opinion,  was  nonsense. 
But  she  liked  to  hear  him  say  it,  nonsense  or  not. 
She  pondered  for  a  moment,  her  face  turned  away 
indifferently,  that  he  might  not  see  she  was  pleased. 

"  You  contradict  yourself,"  she  retorted.  "  You 
know  angels  are  not  in  the  world !  " 

"  One  is !  "  said  Robert. 

"I  like  you  so  much  better,  Robert,  when  you're 
saying  clever  things  like  that,"  said  Barbara,  patron- 
isingly,  "  than  when  you  are  just  stupid,  and  don't 


Barbara  Ladd  177 


do  anything  but  just  look  at  me,  as  you  do  some- 
times!" 

She  was  too  young  to  know  that  when  a  man  can 
be  witty  with  a  woman  he  is  not,  at  the  moment, 
so  engrossed  in  her  but  that  he  is  able  to  think  of 
himself. 

Before  Robert  could  reply  they  were  past  the 
miry  ground,  and  Barbara  had  once  more  set  her 
black  horse  at  the  gallop.  The  sorrel  needed  no 
urging  to  follow,  —  and  indeed,  for  a  few  minutes 
both  riders  were  fully  occupied  in  preventing  the 
ride  from  degenerating  into  a  headlong  race,  so 
emulous  were  the  two  horses.  The  road  was  still 
very  bad,  broken  with  ruts,  holes,  and  boulders,  and 
the  pace  was  therefore  full  of  peril.  The  black  just 
escaped  plunging  his  fore  legs  into  a  bog-hole,  and 
the  narrowness  of  the  escape  seemed  to  make  him 
lose  nerve.  Robert  saw  with  anxiety  that  Barbara, 
though  her  horsemanship  equalled  her  canoeing, 
was  just  now  in  a  far  too  reckless  mood. 

"  Wait,  please,  my  dear  lady,"  he  begged.  "  This 
is  no  road  for  fast  riding.  That  good  beast  of  yours 
just  escaped  a  bad  fall,  and  he's  a  bit  nervous.  Let's 
walk  them  till  we  get  to  better  ground." 

But  Barbara  had  not  noticed  her  escape,  and  she 
was  thrilling  with  exhilaration.  She  did  not  know 
how  beside  herself  she  was. 

"  If  you're  afraid,  follow  at  your  own  pace !  "  she 


178  Barbara  Ladd 

cried,  mockingly.  "  /  came  out  to  ride!  "  And  with 
a  wild  word  of  encouragement  to  the  black,  and  a 
throwing  forward  of  the  reins  upon  his  neck,  she 
shot  on  at  full  speed. 

"  I  beg  you  don't  be  so  reckless !  "  cried  Robert. 
"  You  will  get  a  bad  fall  riding  this  way  on  such  a 
road !  "  There  was  intensest  anxiety  in  his  voice, 
but  the  faintest  tinge  of  reproof  went  with  it,  as 
Barbara's  sensitive  pride  was  quick  to  discern. 

"  I  shall  ride  as  recklessly  as  I  please,"  said  she. 
"  But  don't  let  that  trouble  you.  Be  careful  if  you 
like.    Ride  like  an  old  woman  if  you  like!  " 

This  taunt  did  not  touch  Robert,  as  he  knew  the 
quality  of  his  own  horsemanship,  —  which,  indeed* 
Barbara's  attentive  eyes  had  been  quick  to  note. 
But  the  mood  it  -betrayed  alarmed  and  half  angered 
him.  He  saw  in  fancy  that  fleeing,  daring,  wayward 
little  figure  stretched  lifeless  on  the  roadside,  the 
radiant  face  white  and  still.  His  own  face  paled  and 
his  jaw  set  obstinately  as  he  urged  forward  his  big 
sorrel  in  silence. 

The  new  horse  proved  worthy  of  Narragansett 
fame.  Over  the  worst  ground  his  peculiar  pace 
carried  him  with  an  ease  which  the  big  black's  heavy 
tread  could  not  match.  And  when  the  ground  was 
firmer,  and  he  could  stretch  out  at  full  run,  he  soon 
closed  up  the  gap  between  himself  and  his  rival. 
This  nettled  Barbara,  who  thought  her  Black  Prince 


Barbara  Ladd  179 


a  record-breaker;  and  she  even  went  so  far  as  to 
wave  her  riding-crop,  as  if  she  might  be  inclined 
to  use  it  on  this  beast,  which  had  never  felt  the  whip. 
Nevertheless,  the  heavy  hoof-beats  behind  crept 
closer ;  and  soon  the  sorrel's  nose  was  at  her  stirrup ; 
and  then  Robert's  stirrup  and  his  knee  were  level 
with  her  own,  —  and  with  a  quick  sidelong  glance 
she  caught  the  grim  resolve  on  his  dark  face.  She 
was  feeling  by  this  time  the  least  bit  ashamed  of 
herself,  and  awaking  to  the  risks  of  the  road,  so  she 
said,  sweetly: 

"  That's  a  splendid  horse  of  yours,  Robert.  And 
you  can  ride !  " 

''Thank  you,  Mistress  Barbara!"  said  Robert, 
unmollified.  And  just  then  the  road  straightened 
out,  a  stretch  of  hard,  dry  level,  inviting  to  the  loose 
rein  and  the  unchecked  run. 

"  There's  no  danger  here,  Master  Careful !  "  cried 
Barbara. 

"  No,  not  here,  —  except  branches !  "  acknowl- 
edged Robert,  drawing  a  deep  breath  of  relief. 

And  now  for  more  than  a  mile  the  road  was  good. 
It  wound  in  slow  curves,  the  high-branched  ash  and 
white  maple  meeting  over  it  in  stately  arches.  Under 
foot  it  was  hard  and  fairly  even,  with  a  thin  turf 
between  the  shallow  ruts.  Sunlight  and  shadow 
flecked  it  in  vivid  patches ;  and  the  summer  winds, 
which  were  blowing  briskly  in  the  open,  breathed 


180  Barbara  Ladd 

down  this  sheltered  corridor  only  as  half-stirred 
exhalations  of  faint  perfume.  Neck  by  neck  the 
horses  galloped,  their  riders  silent,  looking  straight 
ahead,  but  thrillingly  conscious  of  each  other's  near- 
ness. And  the  strong  rhythm  of  the  hoof-beats 
beneath  them  seemed  to  time  itself  to  the  rushing 
of  their  blood.  It  was  now  no  longer  with  vexation, 
but  with  a  sort  of  half  pride,  that  Barbara  realised 
the  superiority  of  the  sorrel  over  her  own  mount. 
She  saw  that  only  Robert's  firm  hand  on  the  rein 
kept  his  beast  from  forging  ahead.  Thus  they 
rushed  along  through  the  vast  solitudes,  —  really 
alone  together,  although  those  solitudes  were  popu- 
lous with  the  furtive  kindreds  of  fur  and  feather. 
For  the  sound  of  their  coming  travelled  far  before 
them,  and  gave  the  shy  folk  time  to  withdraw  from 
such  unwelcome  intrusion.    Even  the  big  black  bear, 

—  he  whom  Barbara  had  seen  tearing  the  ant-log, 

—  now  withdrew  as  noiselessly  and  shyly  as  the 
wood-mouse,  not  delaying  for  even  a  glance  at  the 
two  wild  riders.  Only  the  red  squirrel,  inquisitive, 
daring,  and  impudent,  stuck  to  his  vantage-post  on 
a  high-arched  limb  and  jabbered  shrill  derision  at 
them  as  they  raced  by. 

At  length,  just  as  the  intoxication  of  the  ride  and 
the  companionship  were  beginning  to  bewilder  his 
brain,  a  turn  of  the  road  showed  Robert  a  stretch 
of  very  bad  ground  right  ahead.    The  careless  road- 


Barbara  Ladd  181 


makers  had  tried,  in  a  half-hearted  way,  to  fill  up 
a  long  bog  with  brush  and  poles.  Had  the  attempt 
been  fully  carried  out,  the  result  would  have  been  a 
rough  but  thoroughly  passable  piece  of  "  corduroy 
road."  As  it  was,  however,  the  brush  and  poles  to- 
gether had  in  spots  sunk  a  foot  below  the  surface, 
at  one  side  or  the  other,  and  in  other  spots  had  been 
quite  engulfed  by  the  hungry  black  mire,  making 
that  stretch  the  curse  of  wheel-travellers,  and  peril- 
ous enough  to  any  but  the  most  cautious  horsemen. 

The  sight  cooled  Robert's  nerves.  Instead  of  rein- 
ing in,  however,  he  let  his  beast  push  a  half-length 
to  the  front,  that  he  might  the  better  control  the 
situation  if  need  should  arise.  Then  he  said,  reso- 
lutely : 

"  If  you  have  no  care  for  your  own  life,  dear  lady, 
I  beg  you  to  think  of  that  good  beast  of  yours.  He 
will  break  a  leg  in  yon  bog-holes,  and  then  he  will 
have  to  be  shot !  " 

Barbara  had  been  fully  prepared,  by  now,  to 
listen  to  reason  and  check  the  pace.  She  knew  she 
had  been  unreasoning  in  her  excitement.  But  the 
fact  that  Robert  knew  she  had  been  unreasonable, 
and  dared  to  show,  by  his  tone  as  well  as  by  his 
argument,  that  he  knew  it,  stirred  a  hot  resentment 
in  her  heart.  In  a  flash  she  forgot  that  she  had  ever 
been  unreasonable  at  all.  Her  first  impulse  was  to 
spur  on  with  added  speed.     Had  it  been  her  own 


1 82  Barbara  Ladd 

neck,  merely,  that  she  would  risk,  she  would  not 
have  hesitated.  But  Robert  had  hit  on  the  one  com- 
pelling- plea.  She  could  not  face  the  risk  of  hurt 
to  her  horse,  or  to  any  kindly  beast  whatever.  She 
reined  in  sharply,  therefore,  without  a  word ;  and  at 
a  walk  the  two  horses  began  to  pick  their  wary  way 
over  the  corduroy. 

"  There's  danger  to  the  good  beasts,  even  at  this 
pace,"  remarked  Robert,  with  more  truthfulness 
than  tact. 

"  Did  you  suppose,"  retorted  Barbara,  in  a  voice 
of  withering  scorn,  "  that  I  was  going  to  ride  my 
Black  Prince  at  a  gallop  over  such  a  piece  of  road 
as  this?" 

This  was  exactly  what  Robert  had  supposed,  of 
course.  But  a  sudden  ray  of  insight  entering  his 
candid  brain  in  time,  he  refrained  from  saying  so. 
He  was  on  the  point  of  saying,  however,  by  way  of 
explanation,  that  the  ground  which  Barbara  had 
already  insisted  upon  traversing  at  full  speed  was 
but  little  better  than  this ;  but  here,  too,  a  sharpening 
perception  checked  him.  He  kept  silence,  seem- 
ingly absorbed  in  guiding  his  horse  between  the  miry 
pitfalls,  until  they  found  themselves  once  again  on 
firm  ground,  —  firm  but  rough.  The  horses,  still 
apprehensive,  showed  no  disposition  to  resume  their 
vehement  gait. 

"  It's  an  outrage,"  cried  Robert,  "  that  the  town- 


Barbara  Ladd  183 


ship  should  permit  such  a  piece  of  road  as  this.  I 
shall  have  a  voice  in  affairs  here  in  three  or  four 
years,  and  then  I'll  see  that  the  road-work  is  properly 
done.  I'll  have  no  traps  in  this  township  to  break 
good  horses'  legs !  " 

This  sentiment  was  so  much  to  Barbara's  taste 
that  she  found  it  an  excuse  for  being  mollified. 

"  That's  right,  Robert !  "  she  answered,  very  gra- 
ciously. "  Now,  be  sure  you  remember  that  when 
the  time  comes !  " 

"  I'll  remember  it,"  cried  Robert,  with  cheerful 
confidence. 

By  this  time,  when  the  leisurely  walking  of  the 
horses  offered  no  affront  to  the  forest  quiet,  the 
birds  were  resuming  their  busy  calls  and  the  bustle 
of  their  intimate  affairs;  and  the  less  shy  members 
of  the  furry  fellowship  went  once  more  about  their 
business  in  the  busy  precincts  of  the  road.  Barbara's 
sympathetic  and  unerring  vision  singled  them  out, 
differentiating  them  from  their  harmonious  sur- 
roundings, when  Robert's  eye,  as  a  rule,  could  not 
without  help  see  anything  but  lichened  stumps  and 
stones,  or  bunches  of  brown  weed,  or  odd-shaped 
excrescences  on  the  trees.  Yet  Robert's  eye  was  the 
eye  of  the  hunter,  skilled  in  the  ruses  of  all  quarry. 
Barbara's  woodcraft  went  immeasurably  beyond  his, 
—  and  perceiving  this,  her  last  resentment  faded 
out  and  she  began  to  initiate  him.     She  named  and 


184  Barbara  Ladd 

distinguished  for  him  birds  of  which  he  had  never 
even  heard,  and  corrected  him  with  gleeful  pride 
when  he  innocently  mistook  the  cry  of  a  woodpecker 
for  that  of  a  jay.  As  for  Robert,  his  delight  in  this 
initiation  was  second  only  to  his  delight  in  his  wilful 
initiator,  who  was  now  all  earnestness  and  to  him  a 
marvel  of  abstruse  erudition.  He  learned  very 
quickly,  however,  and  so  Barbara  was  pleased  not 
less  by  his  comparative  ignorance  than  by  his  super- 
lative aptitude,  which  was  an  incense  of  flattery  to 
his  instructress.  Only  on  the  subject  of  deer  and 
grouse  Barbara  could  teach  him  nothing. 

"  You  know  all  about  those,"  she  cried,  reproach- 
fully, "  because  you  have  taken  the  trouble  to  learn 
about  them,  so  you  can  kill  them !  " 

"  It  does  seem  a  pity  to  kill  such  lovely,  interest- 
ing creatures,"  acknowledged  the  lad,  thoughtfully. 
"  But  what  can  we  do?  Surely  they  were  given  to 
us  for  our  use.  Providence  intended  them  for  our 
food.    It  must  be  right  for  us  to  kill  them !  " 

"  Of  course,"  assented  Barbara,  unequipped  with 
any  philosophy  which  might  have  enabled  her  to 
combat  this  argument.  "  Of  course,  it  is  right  for 
us  to  eat  them.  But  you,  Robert,  you  take  pleasure 
in  killing  them.    I  don't  quite  like  you  for  that !  " 

Robert's  face  grew  more  and  more  thoughtful, 
for  this  was  to  him  a  hard  saying,  indeed,  and  he 


Barbara  Ladd  185 


had  no  answer  ready.  He  was  a  skilled  shot  and  a 
keen  huntsman. 

"  I  could  not  understand  a  man  not  taking  pleas- 
ure in  the  chase,"  said  he,  "  but  I  suppose  if  he  got 
to  know  the  wild  things  intimately,  and  love  them, 
as  you  do,  he  could  no  longer  bear  to  kill  them, 
sweet  lady !  " 

"  I'm  going  to  teach  you  to  love  them  all,  Robert," 
said  Barbara,  easily  confident  in  her  powers. 

"  I  am  taught  already,"  he  began,  with  the  little 
elaborate  air  which  Barbara  liked.  Then  he  changed 
his  mind  quickly.  "  No,  I  don't  mean  that  at  all ! 
I  shall  need  a  great  many  lessons;  but  I  shall  learn 
at  last,  if  you  teach  me  faithfully !  " 

Barbara  laughed,  a  clear,  ringing  laugh,  that 
astonished  the  lurking  weasel  and  made  the  red 
squirrel  highly  indignant. 

"  You  don't  mean  anything  at  all  you  say,  Robert. 
You  just  like  to  say  pretty  things !  " 

Which  was  wantonly  unjust,  as  Barbara  knew, 
and  as  her  very  gracious  glance  acknowledged. 

A  few  rods  farther  on,  Barbara  suddenly  drew 
rein,  wheeled  her  horse  about,  and  held  out  her  hand. 

"  Now  I  must  go  home,  Robert.  I  think  I  can 
trust  you  to  find  the  rest  of  the  way  alone!  Don't 
forget  what  I've  told  you.  And  don't  forget  to  come 
and  see  Uncle  Bob,  the  very  first  of  next  week.  And 
thank  you  so  much  for  bringing  back  the  canoe." 


1 86  Barbara  Ladd 

Robert  had  promptly  taken  the  little  brown  hand, 
and  kissed  it  with  somewhat  more  fervour  than  form 
required,  till  Barbara,  without  any  sign  of  dis- 
pleasure, snatched  it  away.  Then,  instead  of  saying 
good-bye,  he  wheeled  his  big  sorrel.  "  You  must 
allow  me  the  honour  of  riding  back  with  you,  Mis- 
tress Barbara,"  said  he. 

"  No,  indeed !  "  cried  the  girl.  "  I  cannot  think 
of  letting  you  do  any  such  thing.  It  will  be  late 
enough  as  it  is  when  you  get  to  Gault  House !  " 

Robert's  mind  was  quite  made  up,  but  he  scanned 
her  face  anxiously  to  see  if  she  really  meant  her 
inhibition.  Her  dancing  eyes  and  laughing  mouth 
convinced  him  that  she  did  not  mean  it  with  any 
serious  conviction,  so  his  obstinate  jaw  relaxed. 

"  Allow  you  to  ride  back  through  these  woods 
alone,  my  lady?"  he  protested,  gaily.  "Do  you 
think  the  wood  spirits  would  let  slip  such  an  oppor- 
tunity to  carry  off  their  queen?  You  are  theirs,  by 
rights,  I  know.  But  I  must  see  you  back  safely  into 
the  hands  of  Mistress  Mehitable." 

So  it  came  about  that,  in  spite  of  his  exigencies, 
Robert  dined  at  Mistress  Mehitable's,  and  did  not 
start  for  Gault  House  till  long  past  noon. 


CHAPTER    XVIII. 

Two  days  later  Mr.  Robert  Glenowen  arrived  at 
Second  Westings  by  the  Hartford  coach,  alighting 
to  be  publicly  kissed  and  embraced  with  a  heedless 
fervour  which  would  have  been  a  scandal  to  the  com- 
munity, had  not  the  community  by  this  time  grown 
accustomed  to  Barbara's  joyous  flouting  of  its  con- 
ventions. Barbara  had  established  for  herself  a 
general  privilege,  and  Second  Westings  had  ceased 
to  do  more  than  lift  its  eyebrows. 

"  It's  the  same  Barbara,  the  same  naughty  little 
baggage  of  mine  I  left  two  years  ago,  for  all  that 
her  petticoats  are  longer,  and  her  lovelocks  shorter, 
and  she  takes  the  trouble  to  powder  her  saucy  little 
nose !  "  said  Mr.  Glenowen,  presently,  holding  her 
at  arms'  length,  and  eyeing  her  with  critical  approval. 

Barbara  endured  the  scrutiny  for  a  moment  or 
two,  then  her  dark  cheeks  flushed,  her  lips  pouted., 
and  she  impetuously  thrust  herself  again  into  his 
arms. 

"  I  have  grown  up  since  you  saw  me,  Uncle  Bob !  " 
she  cried,  kissing  him  on  both  cheeks. 

187 


1 88  Barbara  Ladd 

"  Whose  fault  is  that?  "  he  asked,  again  pushing 
her  away  that  he  might  search  her  eyes. 

"  Aunt  Hitty's !  "  answered  Barbara,  innocently, 
her  eyes  as  clear  as  a  child's. 

Mr.  Glenowen  laughed,  held  her  with  his  left  arm 
about  her  slim  waist,  and  stepped  up  toward  the  inn 
door  to  greet  Doctor  John  and  Doctor  Jim,  who  had 
held  themselves  in  the  background  that  Barbara 
might  have  the  first  greetings  uninterrupted. 

A  few  minutes  later  the  four  were  on  the  way 
to  Mistress  Mehitable's,  walking  up  the  middle  of 
the  street.  Barbara  and  her  uncle,  arm  in  arm, 
walked  between,  with  the  great  bulks  of  Doctor  John 
and  Doctor  Jim  on  either  side,  seeming  to  over- 
shadow them;  while  a  little  way  behind  trudged 
Amos,  in  his  blue  duffle  shirt  and  leather  breeches, 
carrying  the  baggage. 

In  this  position,  framed  as  it  were  and  set  off 
by  Doctor  John  and  Doctor  Jim,  the  likeness  between 
Barbara  and  her  uncle  came  out  as  never  before,  so 
that  both  the  brothers  exclaimed  at  it  together. 
Glenowen  was  a  shade  above  middle  height,  with 
square,  athletic  shoulders,  and  no  suggestion  of 
leanness;  but  he  had  the  same  indescribable  light- 
ness, swiftness,  fineness  of  bearing,  which  charac- 
terised Barbara.  Under  his  very  smart  three-cor- 
nered hat  of  black  beaver  with  its  fashionable  rosette, 
his  thick,  bronze-black,  vigorous  hair,  which  was 


Barbara  Ladd  189 


worn  in  a  queue  and  tied  with  an  ample  ribbon,  had 
the  same  rebellious  wave  in  it  that  Barbara's  had. 
His  face,  like  Barbara's,  was  short,  with  slightly 
rounded  forehead,  rounded  chin,  firm  jaw,  cheeks 
somewhat  thin,  lips  full  and  passionate.  But  Bar- 
bara's mouth  was  sad,  while  Glenowen's  was  laugh- 
ing, daring,  tender;  and  Barbara's  eyes  were  of 
a  transparent,  fathomless,  gray-green,  sometimes 
flaming,  sometimes  darkly  inscrutable,  while  Glen- 
owen's were  of  a  sunny,  merry  brown,  darkening 
and  growing  keen  as  steel  when  he  was  intent.  As 
he  was  carrying  his  gauntlet  gloves  of  light,  Amer- 
ican-made goat-leather,  the  further  likeness  to  Bar- 
bara came  out  in  his  bare  hands,  which  were  dark 
and  slender  and  fine  like  hers,  with  long-oval,  pol- 
ished, aristocratic  nails.  Barbara  herself  would 
never  wear  gloves  about  Second  Westings  in  sum- 
mer, save  at  meeting,  or  when  riding,  or  in  pulling 
herbs  or  cutting  flowers.  She  loved  nice  gloves,  as 
a  dainty  and  suggestive  article  of  toilet;  but  she 
loved  the  freedom  of  her  little,  sensitive  fingers,  and 
felt  that  Second  Westings  had  no  atmosphere  to  fit 
the  suggestion  of  gloved  hands.  It  was  manifest 
that  Barbara  was  chiefly  a  Glenowen,  —  but  it  was 
equally  manifest  that  her  eyes  were  the  eyes  of  the 
Ladds;  for  they  were  profoundly  different  from 
those  of  her  Uncle  Bob,  and  so  far  as  enigmatic 
gray-green  could  resemble  untroubled  sky-blue,  they 


I  go  Barbara  Ladd 

were  like  to  the  deep,  transparent  eyes  of  Mistress 
Mehitable. 

Mr.  Glenowen  brought  to  Second  Westings  a  lot 
of  presents  for  Barbara,  a  whiff  of  freshness  from 
the  outside  world,  and  an  indefinable  sense  of  fer- 
ment and  change.  It  was  as  if  the  far-off  tales  of 
strife  between  king  and  colonies  ceased  on  the 
sudden  to  be  like  the  affairs  of  story-books,  and 
became  crystallised,  by  the  visitor's  mere  presence, 
into  matters  of  vital  import.  A  premonition  of 
vast  events  flashed  through  the  quiet  heart  of  the 
village;  and  from  the  day  of  the  arrival  of  Mr. 
Robert  Glenowen  by  the  Hartford  coach,  the  repose 
of  Second  Westings  was  never  again  quite  the  same. 

Yet  Glenowen  at  this  time  was  no  partisan.  He 
was  merely  in  active  touch  with  the  troubles  of  the 
time,  and  vexatiously  divided  within  himself.  By 
sentiment,  taste,  and  tradition  a  Tory,  and  by  intel- 
lectual conviction  a  Whig,  he  shunned  rather  than 
courted  argument  in  which  he  could  heartily  support 
neither  side.  Nevertheless,  before  dinner  was  over, 
all  the  company,  save  Barbara,  were  at  him,  —  Mis- 
tress Mehitable  and  Doctor  Jim  on  the  one  side,  and 
Doctor  John,  with  whimsical  insinuations  and  Par- 
thian shafts,  on  the  other.  As  for  Barbara,  she  was 
too  happy  to  care  whether  kings  thwarted  colonies 
or  colonies  thwarted  kings,  so  long  as  she  might  sit 


Barbara  Ladd  191 


in  unwonted  and  radiant  silence  and  beam  upon  her 
Uncle  Bob. 

But  Mr.  Glenowen  was  not  to  be  entrapped  into 
any  serious  discussions  so  soon  after  his  journey.  He 
showed  an  unmistakable  and  determined  desire  to 
play.  Barbara's  one  curl,  where  he  had  been  wont 
to  see  many,  was  of  concern  to  him.  Her  one  kitten 
—  now  admitted  to  the  dignified  precincts  of  the 
dining-room  since  the  other  two  had  been  given 
away,  the  day  before,  to  Doctor  Jim  and  Mercy 
Chapman  respectively  —  appeared  to  him  of  more 
concern  than  Mr.  Adams  or  Lord  North.  He  was 
brimful  of  appreciative  merriment  over  the  story 
of  Barbara's  adventurous  voyage,  and  troublesomely 
interrogative  as  to  the  various  attributes  of  Robert. 
He  had  attentive  inquiries  for  old  Debby,  and  Mercy 
Chapman,  and  Keep,  and  the  Reverend  Jonathan 
Sawyer,  and  Black  Prince,  and  many  others  whom 
none  would  have  dreamed  he  could  remember  after 
two  years  of  well-occupied  absence.  By  the  time 
dinner  was  over  none  had  achieved  to  know  whether 
Uncle  Bob  would  call  himself  Tory  or  Whig.  Bar- 
bara, of  course,  felt  confident  that  he  was  a  joyously 
established  rebel;  while  Doctor  Jim  was  equally 
sure  he  was  a  king's  man  through  and  through. 
The  others  were  in  doubt. 

Nor  was  Mr.  Glenowen  more  communicative  when 
the  meal  was  done.    He  was  then  too  impatient  even 


192  Barbara  Ladd 

to  smoke  his  pipe,  for  haste  to  get  at  his  travelling- 
bags  and  show  Barbara  what  he  had  brought  for 
her.  As  he  pulled  out  these  treasures  one  by  one, 
Barbara  forgot  all  the  dignity  of  her  lengthened 
frocks,  and  screamed  with  delight,  and  kissed  him 
spasmodically,  and  exhausted  her  rich  vocabulary 
of  endearments  in  the  vain  effort  to  give  her  rapture 
words ;  till  Doctor  John  and  Doctor  Jim  vowed  they 
would  have  to  go  a  journey  themselves  ere  long,  if 
only  to  bring  Barbara  presents  and  find  out  in  person 
how  sweet  she  could  be.  While  Mistress  Mehitable 
remarked  demurely  that  "  such  knowledge  of  what 
would  please  a  woman  could  only  have  been  attained 
by  more  assiduity  in  effort  than  was  quite  becoming, 
surely,  in  a  bachelor !  " 

"  I  hope,  dear  mistress,"  retorted  Uncle  Bob,  with 
laughing  eyes,  "  that  the  discernment  with  which 
you  so  generously  credit  me  did  not  fail  when  I  was 
selecting  this  little  gift,  unmeet  as  it  is  to  adorn  your 
charms."  And  on  one  knee  he  presented  to  her  a 
bundle  in  green  tissue,  tied  delicately  with  gilt  cord. 

All  crowded  about  Mistress  Mehitable  while  she 
undid  the  cord,  and  unfolded,  with  blushes,  and  with 
little  breathless  exclamations  not  unworthy  of  Bar- 
bara herself,  an  elaborately  ruffled  and  laced  French 
night-rail,  embroidered  heavily  with  silk,  and  let- 
tered in  gold  thread  with  her  initials. 

It  was  such  a  gown  as  often  served  to  make  bed- 


Barbara  Ladd  193 


room  receptions  popular.  And  Mistress  Mehitable, 
though  she  held  those  customs  in  scorn  as  indolent 
and  frivolous,  had  a  healthy  feminine  delight  in 
such  sweet  fripperies  of  apparel  as  this  creation  of 
French  art.  Amid  the  clamour  of  applause  it  was 
some  moments  before  she  could  word  her  ac- 
knowledgments.    At  last  she  said: 

"  I  shall  perhaps  thank  you  less  fervently  than  I 
do  now,  Mr.  Glenowen,  for  this  delightful  present, 
when  its  fascinations  keep  me  from  sleeping.  I'm 
afraid  I  shall  lie  awake  just  to  appreciate  it !  " 

"  Sleep,  rather,  I  beg  you,  fair  mistress,  and 
honour  me  with  some  small  place  in  your  dreams !  " 
cried  Uncle  Bob,  gallantly. 

"  Fie!  Fie!  Fie!  "  said  Mistress  Mehitable,  shak- 
ing at  him  a  slim,  reproving  finger.  "  You  must 
not  put  such  gallantries  into  these  young  people's 
heads.  Doctor  Jim  is  steady  enough,  but  such 
notions  are  very  upsetting  to  John  and  Barbara!  " 

"  Glenowen,  you  young  scoundrel,  sir !  "  roared 
Doctor  Jim,  "  what  do  you  mean  by  coming  in  here 
and  turning  our  girls'  heads  with  your  bold  com- 
pliments and  French  night-rails?  I  marvel  at  your 
devilish  audacity,  sir !  You'll  have  trouble  on  your 
hands  before  you  know  what  you're  about,  —  eh, 
what?" 

Uncle  Bob  was  darting  around  the  room  like  a 
pleased  boy,  delighted  with  the  effect  he  had  pro- 


I  g4  Barbara  Ladd 


duced,  delighted  with  his  success  in  pleasing  Mis- 
tress Mehitable,  and  in  bringing  out  the  gayer, 
brighter  side  of  her  conscience-burdened  spirit. 

"  Pistols,  Pigeon !  Pistols  let  it  be,  this  very  night 
after  moonset,  under  Mistress  Mehitable's  window !" 
he  cried,  slapping  Doctor  Jim's  great  shoulders.  "  I 
give  you  fair  warning  I  shall  bring  the  dear  lady 
a  far  handsomer  one  the  next  time  I  come !  " 

Barbara,  meanwhile,  and  Mistress  Mehitable,  and 
Doctor  John,  had  their  heads  close  together  over  the 
intricate  and  beautiful  embroidery,  admiring  each 
fine  detail  in  careful  succession. 

"  It  is  perfectly  beautiful! "  pronounced  Barbara, 
at  length,  with  a  deep  breath  of  satisfaction  and  a 
consciousness  of  duty  loyally  done.  There  were 
several  of  her  own  presents  which  she  admired  more 
fervently,  and  she  already  had  five,  with  the  possi- 
bility of  more  yet  to  come  from  Uncle  Bob's  wonder- 
ful bag.  But  she  felt  it  would  not  be  playing  fair 
if  she  failed  to  give  full  measure  of  time  and  fervour 
to  sympathising  with  Aunt  Hitty  in  her  good  for- 
tune. At  the  same  time,  she  felt  that  in  her  aunt's 
frank  delight  in  such  a  frivolous  and  quite  unneces- 
sarily beautiful  garment  she  had  found  a  new  bond 
of  understanding  with  that  long-misunderstood  lady. 

But  Mistress  Mehitable  had  yet  one  more  word 
to  say  before  she  was  ready,  in  turn,  to  give 
undivided  attention  to  Barbara's  fortunes. 


Barbara   Ladd  195 


"  I  am  going  to  confess,  Mr.  Glenowen,"  said  she, 
with  a  smiling,  half-shamefaced  glance,  as  she  held 
up  the  dainty  creation  of  lawn  and  lace  and  silk, 
caressing  her  smooth  pink  and  white  cheek  with  it, 
"  I  am  going  to  confess  that  this  lovely  garment 
is  just  such  a  thing  as  I  have  longed  to  have,  yet 
should  have  considered  it  wicked  self-indulgence  to 
purchase.  Even  so  sober  and  prosy  a  dame  as  I 
may  dearly  love  the  uselessly  beautiful.  I'm  begin- 
ning to  doubt  whether  I  really  want  to  be  quite  so 
useful  and  competent  as  I  am  thought  to  be.  You, 
Mr.  Glenowen,  a  comparative  stranger,  and  with  but 
a  casual,  courteous  regard  for  me,  have  read  my 
heart  as  these  my  dearest  and  lifelong  friends,  who 
would,  I  believe,  give  their  right  hands  to  serve  me, 
could  not  do." 

"  Glenowen,  you  die  to-night ! "  roared  Doctor 
Jim,  knitting  his  great  brows. 

But  Doctor  John  was  on  one  knee  at  Mistress 
Mehitable's  black-satin-shod  small  feet,  one  hand 
upon  his  breast. 

"  Nothing  more  utilitarian  than  silk  stockings, 
most  dear  and  unexpectedly  frivolous  lady,"  he 
vowed,  "  shall  be  my  tributes  of  devotion  to  you 
henceforth !  " 

"And  mine  shall  be  garters,  fickle  Mehitable!" 
cried  Doctor  Jim,  dropping  on  his  knee  beside  Doctor 


ig6  Barbara  Ladd 

John,  and  swearing  with  like  solemnity.  "  Silk  gar- 
ters, —  and  such  buckles  for  silk  garters !  " 

"  And  little  silk  shoes,  and  such  big  buckles  for 
little  silk  shoes !  "  said  Doctor  John. 

"  And  silk  petticoats !  "  went  on  Doctor  Jim,  an- 
tiphonally.  "  Brocaded  silk,  flowered  silk,  watered 
silk,  painted  silk,  corded  silk,  tabby  silk,  paduasoy 
silk,  alamode  silk,  taffety  silk,  charrydarry  —  "  till 
Mistress  Mehitable  put  her  hand  over  his  mouth  and 
stopped  the  stream  of  his  eruditions. 

"  And  silk  —  and  silk  —  "  broke  in  Doctor  John, 
once  more,  but  stammeringly,  because  his  knowledge 
of  the  feminine  wardrobe  was  failing  him.  "  Tut, 
tut,  silk  night-rails,  indeed!  The  scoundrel!  The 
vagabond  Welshman!  May  I  die  of  Jim  Pigeon's 
physic  if  I  don't  make  shift  —  make  silk  shift  —  " 

"John!"  cried  Mistress  Mehitable,  in  tone  of 
rebuke,  and  pushing  them  both  away  from  her. 
"  Get  up  at  once,  both  of  you,  and  don't  be  so  silly !  " 

Her  eyes  shone,  and  her  cheeks  were  flushed  with 
mingled  pleasure  and  embarrassment,  and  Glenowen 
realised  that  she  was  much  younger  and  prettier  than 
he  had  been  wont  to  think. 

"  O  Mehitable-demoralised-by-Barbara !  "  vowed 
Doctor  John,  towering  over  her.  "  Your  sweet  and 
now  perverted  soul  shall  be  satisfied  with  gewgaws ! 
I,  John  Pigeon,  swear  it !  " 

"  Then  I  want  a  bosom-bottle,  of  Venice  glass  and 


i 


fa  m 


I  * 


./ 


"0    Mehitable-demoralised-by   Barbara!"   vowed 

Doctor  John. 


Barbara  Ladd  197 


gold  filigree,  to  keep  my  nosegays  from  withering!  " 
retorted  Mistress  Mehitable,  flashing  up  at  him  a 
look  of  her  blue  eyes.  "  I've  never  had  such  a  chance 
as  this  in  all  my  life!  " 

"  There  now,  hussy !  "  growled  Doctor  Jim,  turn- 
ing upon  Barbara.  "  See  what  you  have  done.  In 
three  days  you  have  demoralised  her  completely. 
And  I  see  the  ruin  of  John  and  Jim  Pigeon,  buying 
her  things !  " 

But  Barbara  was  by  this  time  too  absorbed  in 
her  own  things  to  heed  the  catastrophe  thus  impend- 
ing. It  was  plain  that  Uncle  Bob  had  been  pros- 
perous these  past  two  years,  —  and  equally  plain 
that  he  was  in  full  sympathy  with  Barbara's  tastes. 
First  of  all,  there  were  books,  —  a  handsomely 
bound  copy  of  Sir  Philip  Sidney's  "  Arcadia,"  an 
old,  time-stained  copy  of  "  England's  Helicon,"  a 
copy  in  boards  of  the  admired  "  Odes  "  of  Mr.  Gray, 
and  a  copy  of  Mr.  Thompson's  "  The  Castle  of  In- 
dolence." With  these,  in  strange  companionship,  a 
white  silk  mask,  —  a  black  velvet  mask  with  silver 
buttons  on  silver  cord  behind  the  mouth,  to  enable 
the  wearer  to  hold  it  in  place  with  her  lips,  when  both 
hands  might  chance  to  be  occupied,  —  and  a  small 
pistol,  inlaid  with  silver  and  mother-of-pearl.  This 
seductive  little  weapon  Barbara  hugged  rapturously 
to  her  breast.    Though  she  would  not  kill  anything 


198  Barbara  Ladd 

for  the  world,  she  loved  to  feel  she  could  be  slaugh- 
terous an  she  wished ! 

Then  came  wonders  of  the  wardrobe.  Barbara 
hungered  to  try  them  on  all  at  once,  and  in  truth 
made  marvellous  efforts  toward  that  unachievable 
end.  There  were  kerchiefs  of  sheerest  lawn  and 
lace,  and  of  embroidered  silk.  There  were  two  pairs 
of  silk  garters,  three  pairs  of  silk  stockings,  and  six 
pairs  of  fine  thread  stockings.  She  loved  the  silk 
stockings  as  she  did  the  pistol  and  Sir  Philip  Sidney. 
There  were  shoes,  low,  shapely,  thin-soled  shoes  of 
red  morocco,  and  black  chamois,  and  black  satin, 
and  a  pair  of  daintiest  slippers  of  white  satin,  all 
with  buckles  satisfyingly  resplendent. 

"  I  knew  your  feet  would  never  be  any  larger  than 
they  are  now,"  explained  Uncle  Bob,  "  so  having 
the  opportunity  to  get  some  uncommon  fine  shoes 
at  a  price  uncommon  reasonable,  I  thought  it  just 
as  well  to  embrace  occasion  boldly !  " 

"  But  how  did  you  ever  guess  the  right  size,  Uncle 
Bob  ?  "  cried  Barbara,  in  ecstasy,  trying  on  a  black 
satin  one  with  supreme  forgetfulness  of  company 
manners,  and  poking  out  ingenuously  the  most  be- 
witching foot  in  the  thirteen  colonies.  "  Do  just 
look.    It  fits  like  a  glove !  " 

Stooping  quickly  as  if  to  examine  it,  Doctor  Jim 
engulfed  it  in  one  large,  white  hand;  and  kissed  it 
just  above  the  glittering  buckle. 


Barbara  Ladd  199 


"  There,  Bob  Glenowen,"  he  growled,  as  he 
straightened  himself,  "  is  that  the  proper  civility  to 
show  a  lady  when  she  pokes  out  her  foot  at  you? 
I  suppose  you  would  pocket  the  shoe  and  carry  off 
the  lady!    Eh,  what?" 

"  How  dare  you  kiss  my  niece  without  my  leave  ?  " 
demanded  Mr.  Glenowen. 

**  He  shall  kiss  me  just  whenever  he  likes,  and  no 
one  in  the  world  shall  interfere!  "  declared  Barbara, 
springing  up,  and  pulling  Doctor  Jim's  neck  down 
to  be  swiftly  hugged.  "  But  —  how  did  you  know 
the  right  size,  Uncle  Bob?  " 

A  look  passed  between  Mistress  Mehitable  and 
Glenowen;  and  Barbara,  intercepting  it,  understood 
in  a  flash. 

"Oh!  Oh!  Aunt  Hitty!  You  did  it!"  she 
shrieked,  clapping  her  hands.  "  You  sent  him  my 
green  silk  slipper  for  a  pattern!  And  I've  been 
thinking  I  had  lost  it!  And  I  was  ashamed  to  tell 
you !    Oh,  how  dear,  and  deceitful  of  you,  honey !  " 

"Here,  indeed,  is  the  delinquent  slipper!"  ac- 
knowledged Uncle  Bob,  drawing  the  green  silk  toy 
from  his  bag.  He  handed  it  over  to  Mistress  Mehit- 
able, for  Barbara  was  again  absorbed,  her  glowing 
face,  with  one  massive  black  curl  hanging  straight 
past  her  cheek,  bent  low  over  her  spoils,  among 
which  were  lengths  of  silk,  —  a  rich  brocade,  a 
taffeta,  and  a  silk  Damascus,  out  of  which  her  quick 


200  Barbara  Ladd 


fancy  conjured  up  a  dream  of  petticoats,  panniers, 
and  bodices  that  should  appear  most  sumptuously 
grown-up.  There  were  gloves,  too,  and  mitts ;  and 
a  mighty  handsome  little  "  equipage  "  of  silver-gilt, 
containing  scissors,  thimble,  nail-trimmer,  tweezers, 
and  such  small  needments,  to  hang  at  the  left  side 
of  her  bodice.  There  was  a  flimsy  affair  of  a  "  love- 
hood,"  silk  and  gauze  and  mystery,  from  which  Bar- 
bara's vivid,  petulant,  dark  little  face  flashed  forth 
with  indescribable  bewitchment.  This  love-hood, 
swore  Doctor  John,  should  never  be  worn  by  Barbara 
on  the  streets  of  Second  Westings,  for  reasons  affect- 
ing the  public  weal,  as  it  would  bedevil  the  Reverend 
Jonathan  Sawyer  himself  in  the  very  sanctuary  of 
his  pulpit.  Barbara  suddenly  looked  forward  with 
interest  to  going  to  meeting  on  the  following  Sun- 
day, bedecked  in  the  disastrous  love-hood. 

Last,  but  not  least  in  Barbara's  eyes,  there  was  an 
exceedingly  delicate  frivolity  in  the  shape  of  a  carven 
gilt  patch-box,  about  an  inch  and  a  half  in  length. 
In  the  top  was  set  a  painted  china  medallion,  repre- 
senting a  richly  dressed  shepherdess  enwreathed  in 
roses,  with  the  appropriate  posy : 

"  My  love  in  her  attire  doth  show  her  wit, 
It  doth  so  well  become  her !  " 

On  the  inside  of  the  cover  was  a  tiny  mirror.    When 
Barbara,  silent  with  delight,  peered  into  this  mirror, 


Barbara  Ladd  201 


she  caught  a  vision  of  herself  in  a  gay  ballroom, 
patched  and  powdered  and  furbelowed,  shattering  the 
hearts  of  a  host  of  cavaliers,  who  every  one  of  them 
looked  like  a  relative  of  Robert  Gault. 


CHAPTER    XIX. 

That  night,  when  she  was  going  to  bed,  came 
Barbara's  really  deep  reaction  from  the  exaltation 
and  excitement  which  had  possessed  her  since  the 
morning  with  Mistress  Mehitable.  The  joy  of  her 
uncle's  coming,  the  whirl  of  childish  delight  over 
the  presents  he  had  brought  her,  had  swept  her 
spirits  to  a  pinnacle  which  could  not  be  maintained. 
She  slipped,  and  fell  down  on  the  other  side. 

First  she  lighted  the  four  candles  that  stood,  two 
on  each  side  of  the  mirror,  on  her  shining  mahogany 
dressing-table.  Then  she  undressed,  put  on  her  long, 
white  nightgown,  and  said  her  prayers  with  a 
troubled  alternation  of  fervour  and  forgetfulness. 
She  was  slipping.  Then,  one  by  one,  she  looked  her 
presents  well  over  again,  noted  that  each  was  just 
as  perfect  as  it  had  seemed  to  her  every  other  one 
of  the  dozen  times  she  had  examined  it,  and  won- 
dered with  a  pang  what  had  become  of  all  their 
magic.  Her  scintillant  delight  in  them  had  faded 
to  a  mere  dull  drab  perception  of  their  merits.  Her 
eyes  filled,  and  a  lump  rose  in  her  throat.    She  was 


Barbara  Ladd  203 


far  over   the   crest   of  the  pinnacle,   on   the   cold, 
enshadowed  side  of  the  steep. 

The  one  kitten,  whom  she  had  named  "  Mr. 
Grim,"  —  a  round-faced,  round-eyed  gray  and 
white  furred  baby,  not  yet  accustomed  to  the  loss  of 
his  two  saucer  mates,  —  crept  snuggling  against  her 
bare  ankles  and  mewed  mildly,  begging  to  be  noticed. 
Barbara  picked  it  up,  fondled  it  in  her  bosom,  threw 
herself  down  on  the  bed  with  it,  and  burst  into  a 
passion  of  tears.  She  felt  as  if  she  had  been  long, 
long  away.  She  was  poignantly  homesick  for  her 
old  self,  her  old  childishness.  The  burden  of  being 
grown-up  suddenly  arose,  thrust  itself  upon  her,  and 
grew  great  and  terrifying  and  not  to  be  borne.  She 
was  oppressed,  too,  with  self-reproach.  Absorbed  in 
vivid  and  novel  sensations,  during  the  past  few 
eventful  days  she  had  not  thought  as  much  as  usual 
about  her  old  comrades,  —  the  kittens,  Keep,  Black 
Prince,  and  Mercy  Chapman.  And  now  in  her  weak- 
ness she  thought  they  had  suffered  from  her  neglect. 
As  a  matter  of  fact,  the  difference  had  been  purely 
in  her  own  mind.  The  kittens,  who  were  quite  de- 
pendent upon  her,  had  been  as  tenderly  cared  for  as 
ever,  but  while  caring  for  them  she  had  thought  of 
other  things  more  novel  and  significant  In  giving 
away  two  of  them  she  had  done  just  what  she  had 
planned  and  promised  from  the  first.  But  now  she 
scourged  herself  for  heartlessness  and  inconstancy, 


204  Barbara  Ladd 


pretending  she  had  sent  them  away  just  because  she 
was  tired  of  taking  care  of  them  and  wanted  to  be 
free  for  new  interests. 

"  Did  its  missis  forget  all  about  the  poor  little 
lonely  baby,  and  send  away  her  other  babies,  and  get 
cruel  and  hard-hearted,  just  because  she  thought  she 
was  grown-up,  and  a  new  friend  came  along  ?  "  she 
murmured,  after  the  first  tempest  was  over,  to  the 
gray  and  white  kitten  now  purring  comfortably 
against  her  soft  throat.  She  sat  up  in  bed  with  it  to 
caress  it  more  effectively. 

"  She  is  a  bad  missis,  and  perfectly  horrid !  "  she 
went  on,  between  sobs ;  and  the  kitten,  who  did  not 
mind  damp,  was  highly  pleased.  "  She  has  been 
perfectly  horrid.  But  to-morrow  she's  going  to  be 
just  her  old  self  again,  and  take  up  the  tuck  in  her 
petticoats,  and  fix  her  hair  like  it  was  before  we 
ran  away.  And  we'll  go  to  Doctor  Jim  and  Mercy 
Chapman  and  just  snatch  back  those  other  poor 
babies ;  and  we'll  all  go  off  together  down  into  the 
back  garden,  by  our  apple-tree,  and  have  a  lovely 
time.  And  —  and  —  yes,  we  will  forgive  old  Debby, 
and  go  and  see  her  to-morrow.  We'll  take  Uncle 
Bob,  and  then  there  won't  be  any  bother  about  ex- 
planations." 

Then  her  tears  flowed  forth  anew,  till  the  kitten 
was  quite  uncomfortably  wet;  and,  with  fresh  re- 
solves to  be  all  child  again  on  the  morrow,  she  sobbed 


Barbara  Ladd  205 


herself  to  sleep,  with  the  thick  hair  tangled  over 
her  eyes  and  grieving  lips. 

But  the  long,  sweet  sleep  brought  complete  re- 
newal to  Barbara's  spent  forces,  and  waking  found 
her  composedly  happy,  with  a  blessed  sense  of  prob- 
lems solved  and  desired  things  coming  to  pass.  Her 
heart  was  a-brim  with  sunshine,  but  the  only  sun- 
shine in  the  room  was  that  she  held  in  her  heart, 
for  the  light  that  came  through  the  diamond  panes 
was  gray,  and  the  sky  behind  the  leafy  branch  was 
gray,  and,  as  she  looked,  the  first  of  the  rain  came, 
blown  in  streaming  gusts  against  the  glass,  and 
shedding  a  narrow  line  of  drops  across  the  polished 
floor.  One  leaf  of  the  window  was  open,  and  Bar- 
bara sprang  from  bed  to  shut  it,  laughing  as  the 
cold  drops  spattered  her  feet.  She  had  no  quarrel 
with  the  rain  that  day,  there  being  enough  pleasures 
indoors  to  keep  any  maid's  mind  busy. 

After  breakfast,  however,  when  she  found  that 
Uncle  Bob  was  going  down  into  the  village  to  call  on 
the  Reverend  Jonathan  Sawyer,  to  drink  a  glass  with 
Squire  Gillig  in  his  snug  office  behind  the  store, 
and  to  pay  his  respects  to  Doctor  John  and  Doctor 
Jim,  then  Barbara  felt  the  lure  of  the  rain,  and 
said  she  would  go  with  him. 

"  I  love  the  rain,"  she  explained,  —  "  and  it's  so 
nice  for  the  complexion,  too !  I'll  go  and  tell  Mercy 
Chapman  about  my  presents,  and  take  some  jellies 


206  Barbara  Ladd 


to  her  poor  sick  mother,  while  you  are  talking  pol- 
itics in  the  squire's  back  office,  Uncle  Bob.  Then 
I'll  meet  you  at  Doctor  John's  office,  and  we'll  step 
into  Doctor  Jim's,  and  bring  both  of  them  up  to 
dinner  with  us,  so  we'll  all  be  together  as  much  as 
possible.  Won't  we,  dear  ?  "  And  she  paused  in 
the  task  of  strapping  on  her  goloshes,  to  appeal  to 
Mistress  Mehitable. 

"  You  are  proposing  to  make  a  lot  of  trouble  for 
your  aunt !  "  protested  Glenowen. 

"  Indeed  she  is  not,"  began  Mistress  Mehitable. 
warm  to  second  Barbara's  proposal.  But  before 
she  could  say  more,  there  was  a  wilder  gust  among 
the  trees  outside,  a  fiercer  burst  of  rain  against 
the  windows,  and,  with  a  huge  stamping  in  the 
vestibule,  came  Doctor  Jim,  as  if  blown  in  by  storm. 
All  hurried  to  meet  him,  where  he  stood  dripping 
in  the  hall  door,  and  the  expedition  to  the  village 
was  postponed.  An  hour  later  came  Doctor  John, 
even  wetter  and  more  dishevelled  than  his  brother, 
from  the  bedside  of  a  patient  at  the  opposite  end 
of  the  village.  The  two  had  planned  that  theirs 
should  be  the  hospitality  of  that  day,  but  the  storm 
and  Mistress  Mehitable  together  triumphed.  The 
old  house  was  merry  all  day  long  with  gay  voices, 
its  maiden  fragrances  of  lavender  and  rose  touched 
genially  with  breaths  of  the  mild  Virginia  weed. 
And  Barbara  forgot,  completely  and  for  ever,  how 


Barbara  Ladd  207 


near  she  had  been  to  drowning  the  furry  "  Mr. 
Grim  "  in  the  tears  of  her  regret  for  her  lost  child- 
ishness. 

Toward  sunset  the  rain  stopped,  and  a  copper 
flame  was  reflected  up  from  the  windows  of  a  cot- 
tage visible  to  the  eastward  through  the  trees;  and 
the  western  sky,  opening  along  the  horizon  under 
great  smoky-purple  battlements  of  cloud,  revealed 
unspeakable  glories  of  clear  gold.  Throughout  the 
rare  hour,  till  dusk  fell,  the  thrushes  sang  ecstati- 
cally, so  unusual  an  outburst  that  Barbara  dragged 
every  one  out  upon  the  wet  porch  to  listen  to  the 
thrilling,  cloistral-pure  cadences,  the  infinite  tran- 
quillities of  tone.  So  inspiring  was  that  hour  in 
the  front  of  twilight  that  even  the  catbird  down 
in  the  back  garden  forgot  that  he  had  been  for  days 
too  busy  to  sing,  and  mounted  the  topmost  bough 
of  a  tall  cherry,  and  eased  his  soul  in  a  chaos  of 
golden  phrases. 

Very  early  the  next  morning,  —  the  kind  of  morn- 
ing when  the  sunlight  itself  seems  as  if  it  wrere  just 
sparkling  from  a  bath  in  cold  fountains,  —  Barbara 
and  Glenowen  started  out  for  a  paddle  across  the 
lake  to  visit  old  Debby.  They  went  through  the 
barn-yard,  through  the  bars,  through  the  pasture, 
and  through  the  wood ;  and  in  response  to  his  bound- 
ing and  wagging  appeals,  they  took  Keep,  the  mas- 
tiff, with  them.    They  went  early,  in  order  to  be  back 


208  Barbara  Ladd 

in  time  for  the  dinner  with  Doctor  John  and  Doc- 
tor Jim.  And  Barbara  insisted  on  letting  Keep  go 
in  the  canoe,  that  she  might  erase  from  his  generous 
heart  the  memory  of  her  harshness  on  the  morning 
of  her  great  adventure.  At  her  command,  the  dog 
stepped  in  so  circumspectly,  and  lay  down  with  so 
nice  a  balance,  that  Uncle  Bob  was  impressed. 

"  The  dog's  a  born  canoeist,  Barb/'  he  declared, 
as  he  headed  up  the  shore  instead  of  straight  out 
across  the  lake.  "  I  wonder  you  ever  had  the  heart 
to  leave  him  behind,  —  and  to  take  those  kittens, 
who  couldn't  tell  a  canoe  from  a  horse-trough." 

Barbara  would  have  answered  that  the  kittens 
needed  her  more  than  Keep  did,  who  had  all  the 
world  for  his  friend ;  but  her  thoughts  were  diverted 
by  the  direction  in  which  her  uncle  was  steering. 

"Why  do  you  go  this  way,  Uncle  Bob?"  she 
demanded,  looking  at  him  over  her  shoulder  while 
her  dripping  paddle-blade  rested  on  the  gunwale. 

"  I  want  to  examine  a  certain  big  rock,  where  a 
certain  small  girl  did  certain  strange  things !  "  re- 
plied Glenowen,  gravely. 

Barbara  flushed,  and  drooped  her  head. 

"  I  didn't  know  you  knew  about  that,  Uncle  Bob!  " 
she  said,  in  a  low  voice.    "  Don't  let's  sro  there !  " 

"  All  right !  "  assented  Glenowen,  cheerfully.  He 
had  recalled  the  old  tragedy  of  deliberate  purpose, 
because,  being  of  Welsh  blood,  and  superstitious,  he 


Barbara  Ladd  209 


was  afraid  Barbara's  unparalleled  high  spirits  might 
bring  her  some  keen  disappointment.  He  had  pur- 
posed to  discipline  her  with  a  dash  of  bitter  mem- 
ories, that  he  might  avert  the  envy  of  the  gods; 
and  when  her  head  drooped  he  had  accomplished 
his  purpose.    But  Barbara  had  changed  her  mind. 

"No!"  she  said.  "  Let's  go  close  to  the  rock, 
and  look  right  down  into  the  water,  just  where  I 
was  lying  when  old  Debby  pulled  me  out !  " 

And  they  did  so.  The  sand  was  clear  gold  down 
there,  but  as  they  looked  a  huge  eel  wriggled  over 
it.  Barbara  shuddered,  and  seized  her  paddle  once 
more  to  get  away. 

"  It's  good  for  me  to  be  reminded,  Uncle  Bob," 
she  said.  "  I  forget,  when  I  am  happy,  how  wicked 
and  foolish  I  can  be  when  things  go  wrong!  But 
oh,  you  can  never  know  how  unhappy  I  used  to  be! 
You'd  have  come  to  me  if  you  had  known,  Uncle 
Bob !  " 

"  Poor  little  girlie !  "  murmured  Glenowen,  his 
kind  brown  eyes  moistening  at  the  corners. 

"  But  I  was  crazy,  both  naughty  and  crazy,  and 
it  was  all  my  fault !  "  went  on  Barbara,  resting  her 
paddle  again  as  the  canoe  skimmed  fleetly  out  across 
the  water,  away  from  the  sorrowful  spot.  "  It's  all 
so  different  now!  And  it's  always  going  to  be 
different!" 

Glenowen  smiled  to  himself,  as  he  was  apt  to  do 


2IO  Barbara  Ladd 

»  » 

when  confronted  with  any  of  the  pathetic  ironies  of 
life.  Barbara  would  not  have  liked  him  to  smile,  for 
to  her  a  smile  meant  amusement  or  mirth,  and  she 
could  never  learn  to  appreciate  the  depth  of  tender- 
ness that  might  lurk  beneath  a  ripple  of  laughter. 
But  she  was  looking  straight  ahead.  In  his  heart 
and  behind  his  smile,  Glenowen  said,  "  Child,  dear 
child,  is  it  all  so  securely  different  now,  and  just 
eight  days  gone  since  you  climbed  out  of  your  win- 
dow before  daybreak?"  But  aloud  he  said,  after 
a  silence: 

"  It  is  indeed  most  different,  Barb,  old  girl  ?  Some 
of  your  troubles  are  really  done  now.  thrown  into 
the  dark  corner  with  the  discarded  dollies.  The 
others  will  keep  bobbing  up  now  and  then,  claiming 
old  acquaintance.  But  just  you  cut  them  dead. 
They  are  in  sober  truth  not  the  same,  now  that  you 
are  older  and  more  responsible.  Well  I  know,  what 
so  many  forget,  that  childish  sorrows,  while  they 
last,  are  the.  most  bitter  and  hopeless  of  sorrows. 
The  wall  that  a  man  steps  over  blots  out  a  child's 
view  of  heaven." 

"  How  wonderfully  you  understand,  Uncle  Bob!  " 
cried  Barbara,  with  ardent  appreciation. 

As  they  neared  the  other  side  of  the  lake,  a  king- 
fisher dropped  like  an  azure  wedge  into  the  ripples, 
missed  his  prey,  and  flew  off  down  to  the  outlet 
clattering  harshly  in  his  throat.    From  the  deep  reeds 


Barbara  Ladd  211 


of  the  point  above  the  outlet  a  wide-winged  bird 
got  up  heavily  as  the  canoe  drew  near. 

"  There  goes  my  old  blue  heron !  "  shouted  Bar- 
bara, gleefully.  "  You  should  have  seen  the  way  he 
fixed  me  with  his  glassy  eyes  as  I  passed,  the  morn- 
ing I  ran  away !  " 

"  He  is  very  old,  and  very  wise,  and  thinks  of 
lots  of  things  besides  frogs !  "  said  Glenowen. 

They  entered  the  outlet,  and  met  old  Debby's 
geese.  The  big  gray  and  white  gander,  in  the  pride 
of  many  goslings,  hissed  fiercely  at  them  as  they 
paddled  past,  so  that  Keep  raised  his  head  and  gave 
him  a  look  of  admonition  over  the  gunwale.  The 
next  turn  brought  them  out  in  full  view  of  Debby's 
cabin,  and  straightway  rose  a  clamorous  outcry  from 
watchful  drakes  and  challenging  chanticleers.  The 
yellow  pup  ran  barking  down  from  the  steps,  and 
Keep  cocked  a  sympathetic  ear. 

"  Lie  down,  sir!  "  commanded  Barbara,  and  Keep 
meekly  suppressed  his  budding  interest. 

Mrs.  Debby  Blue  was  spinning  flax,  on  the  hard- 
beaten  clean  earth  some  paces  in  front  of  her 
threshold,  when  she  saw  and  recognised  her  ap- 
proaching visitors.  In  the  presence  of  Mr.  Glenowen 
she  read  peace,  for  her  shrewd  perception  of  Bar- 
bara's character  told  her  that  the  girl  would  never 
have  permitted  her  a  glimpse  of  the  cherished  uncle 
except  as  a  sign  of  favour.     Nevertheless  the  grim 


212  Barbara  Ladd 


old  woman  was  conscious  of  a  sinking  qualm  at 
thought  of  the  first  straight  look  of  Barbara's  eyes. 
She  knew  she  had  betrayed  her ;  and  that  knowledge 
was  not  wholly  mended  by  the  fact  that  she  knew 
she  had  done  right  to  betray.  Her  lonely  old  heart 
so  yearned  to  the  child  that  she  feared  her  reproach 
as  she  feared  no  other  thing  in  life.  She  stopped  her 
wheel,  dropped  her  roll  of  flax,  picked  up  her  stick, 
and  limped  sturdily  down  toward  the  landing. 

Before  she  had  got  half-way  the  canoe  came  to 
land,  and  Barbara  unceremoniously  skipped  ashore. 

"  Lie  down,  Keep !  "  she  ordered  again,  and  then, 
leaving  Glenowen  to  land  and  follow  at  leisure,  she 
ran  up  the  path  to  greet  old  Debby. 

"  This  does  my  old  eyes  good,  Miss  Barby!  "  ex- 
claimed the  old  woman,  her  voice  a  trifle  unsteady. 

Barbara  seized  her,  and  kissed  her  heartily  on 
both  cheeks. 

"  You  were  very  bad  to  me,  Debby,"  she  cried, 
cheerfully,  "  but  you'd  have  been  worse  to  me  if  you 
hadn't  been  bad  to  me !  So  I  forgive  you,  and  love 
you  just  the  same,  you  old  dear.  The  most  dreadful 
things  might  have  happened  to  me  if  it  hadn't  been 
for  you!" 

Mrs.  Blue  heaved  a  huge  sigh  of  relief;  but  the 
subject  was  too  difficult  and  delicate  a  one  for  her 
to  expand  upon.  She  gave  Barbara  a  vehement 
squeeze,  looked  her  up  and  down,  and  exclaimed : 


Barbara  Ladd  213 


"  Land  sakes  alive,  Miss  Barby,  why,  if  you 
hain't  been  an'  growed  up  over  night.  What've  they 
been  doin'  to  you  over  there?  " 

"  It  was  you  did  it,  Debby,  much  as  anybody !  " 
And  Barbara  flicked  her  petticoats  audaciously  be- 
fore the  old  woman's  eyes,  to  emphasise  their  added 
length.  "Such  lovely  things  have  happened;  and 
Aunt  Hitty  and  I  have  made  up ;  and  I've  so  much 
to  tell  you,  that  I  must  come  over  some  day  and 
spend  the  whole  day  with  you,  after  Uncle  Bob 
goes  away.  And  here's  Uncle  Bob  himself,  who 
only  came  day  before  yesterday,  and  has  come  to  see 
you,  Debby  dear,  before  any  one  else  in  Second 
Westings." 

As  Barbara  stopped  breathless,  Glenowen  came  up 
and  grasped  the  old  dame  warmly  by  the  hand. 

"  You're  looking  ten  years  younger  than  when  I 
saw  you  two  years  ago,  Debby !"  he  declared,  sweetly 
and  transparently  mendacious. 

"  'Tain't  so  much  my  youth,  as  my  beauty,  that 
I  set  store  by,  Mr.  Glenowen,  thankin'  you  jest  the 
same!  "  retorted  the  old  woman,  as  she  led  them  into 
her  cabin  for  refreshment.  She  was  a  cunning 
cook,  if  somewhat  unconventional  in  her  recipes, 
and  she  remembered  with  satisfaction  that  Barbara's 
uncle  had  seemed  to  share  Barbara's  weakness  for 
her  concoctions.  Eight  days  ago  she  would  have 
offered  Barbara  milk  to  drink ;  but  now  she  brought 


214  Barbara  Ladd 


out  only  a  strong  root  wine  for  which  she  was 
famous,  a  beverage  which  was  extolled  throughout 
the  township  as  a  most  efficacious  preventative  of  all 
disorders. 

"  It's  a  wonder  how  letting  down  one's  petticoats 
seems  to  destroy  one's  fondness  for  milk !  "  said 
Barbara. 

Instead  of  sitting  on  the  edge  of  the  high  bed 
and  swinging  her  legs,  as  she  would  have  done  eight 
days  ago,  she  sat  on  a  bench  and  kept  her  feet  on  the 
floor.  And  from  this  old  Debby  realised,  with  a 
pang,  that  the  child  had  truly  grown  to  womanhood. 


CHAPTER    XX. 

Returning  about  noon  to  Westings  House,  early 
that  they  might  have  time  to  dress  for  dinner,  Glen- 
owen  started  to  let  down  the  pasture  bars.  But  Bar- 
bara, in  high  spirits,  went  over  them  like  a  cat, 
forgetful  of  her  new  dignity.  So  Glenowen  vaulted 
after  her.  As  they  rounded  the  end  of  the  barn, 
Amos  came  leading  a  tall  sorrel  across  the  yard; 
and  straightway  Barbara  assumed  a  more  stately 
air,  while  a  quick  radiance  went  over  her  face. 

"That's  Robert  Gault's  horse!"  she  explained. 
"  I  want  you  to  be  very  lovely  to  him,  Uncle  Bob, 
for  he's  such  a  nice  boy,  and  was  so  very  civil  to 
me  when  I  made  him  help  me  run  away.  I  gave 
him  a  terrible  lot  of  anxiety,  you  know !  " 

Glenowen  laughed  uproariously. 

"  I  don't  doubt  you  did,  dear  heart !  "  he  agreed. 
fi  But  Lord,  oh,  Lord,  what  a  way  of  commending 
a  young  man  to  a  young  lady's  doting  uncle,  to  say 
he  mighty  civilly  helped  her  to  run  away !  " 

"  Now,  Uncle  Bob,  I  won't  like  you  if  you  talk 
nonsense !    You  know  very  well  what  I  mean.    And 

2I5 


2i6  Barbara  Ladd 


you  are  to  be  nice  to  Robert!"  retorted  Barbara, 
crisply. 

As  they  went  up  the  long,  box-bordered  path,  Mis- 
tress Mehitable  and  Robert  came  strolling  down  to 
meet  them;  and  the  warmth  of  Glenowen's  greet- 
ings to  Robert  fulfilled  Barbara's  utmost  demands. 
For  her  own  part,  however,  under  the  sway  of  a 
sudden  whim,  she  chose  to  be  by  no  means  extraor- 
dinarily civil.  And  Robert's  contentment  was 
dashed  by  a  chilly  doubt  as  to  whether  or  no  he  had 
chosen  the  right  day  for  his  visit.  Before  they  went 
to  their  rooms  to  dress,  however,  Barbara  relented. 

"  You  should  have  come  last  night,  Robert,"  she 
said,  turning  to  him  graciously  at  the  foot  of  the 
stairs.  "  Then  Uncle  Bob  and  I  would  have  taken 
you  over  the  lake  with  us  this  morning,  in  the  canoe, 
to  see  old  Debby !  " 

She  threw  an  intimate  emphasis  on  the  "  the,"  — 
and  watched  with  a  curious  sense  of  triumph  the 
swift  fading  of  the  cloud  from  Robert's  face. 

For  this  dinner  Barbara  dressed  with  unwonted 
care.  Her  plain  white  silk  petticoat,  duly  lengthened, 
worn  under  her  cream  brocaded  satin  panniers,  with 
buff  satin  bodice,  and  white  lace  short  sleeves,  gave 
her,  as  she  could  not  but  think,  a  most  genteel  ap- 
pearance. With  her  new  white  silk  stockings  and 
white  satin  shoes,  two  large  red  roses  in  her  bosom, 
and  one  in  the  dark  mass  of  her  hair  just  where  the 


Barbara  Ladd  217 


curl  hung  down,  a  tiny  patch  from  the  adorable 
new  patch-box  discreetly  fixed  near  the  corner  of  her 
mouth,  and  the  new  love-hood  to  be  thrown  care- 
lessly over  her  head  in  due  time,  she  felt  herself 
equipped  to  be  as  imperious  and  unpleasant  to  Robert 
as  the  caprice  of  the  moment  might  suggest.  When 
she  went  down-stairs  she  found  Mistress  Mehitable 
waiting  in  the  hall,  in  a  gayer  gown  than  she  had 
ever  before  seen  her  wear.  It  was  a  silk  polonaise, 
of  a  tender,  gris-de-lin  shade,  which  became  her  fair 
colouring  to  a  marvel ;  and  Barbara  was  astonished 
to  see  how  young  and  pretty  she  looked. 

"  How  perfectly  lovely  you  look,  dear !  "  she  cried, 
turning  Mistress  Mehitable  twice  around,  and  put- 
ting a  deft  touch  to  the  light,  abundant,  simply 
coiflured  hair.  "  No  one  will  give  one  look  at  me 
to-day!" 

Her  aunt  flung  an  arm  about  her,  smiling,  then 
tripped  away  girlishly,  flushed  a  pretty  pink,  lifted 
the  edge  of  her  petticoat,  and  displayed  a  slender 
ankle  encased  in  embroidered  sky-blue  silk.  Barbara 
clapped  her  hands  with  approval. 

"  It  is  five  years  since  I  have  worn  them,"  said 
Mistress  Mehitable.  "  Seeing  that  I  failed  so,  child, 
in  my  efforts  to  lead  you  along  the  paths  of 
gravity,  I  have  concluded  to  try  and  let  you  lead  me 
along  the  paths  of  frivolity  —  a  little !  So  I  got 
out  my  blue  silk  stockings !  "     And  spreading  her 


21 8  Barbara  Ladd 


skirts,  she  was  in  the  act  of  making  Barbara  an 
elaborate  curtsey,  when  Glenowen,  coming  up  quickly 
behind  her,  caught  her  and  kissed  her  lightly  on  the 
cheek. 

Mistress  Mehitable,  startled  and  taken  aback, 
blushed  furiously,  and  stood  for  a  second  or  two 
in  confusion.  Then  she  recovered  herself.  She 
made  another  stately  curtsey,  and  saying,  demurely, 
"  Let  me  turn  the  other  cheek  also,  Mr.  Glenowen,,, 
presented  her  face  again  for  a  more  formal  and  less 
hasty  salute. 

Barbara  clapped  her  hands  with  gleeful  appro- 
bation, but  her  comment  brought  a  new  rose  to 
Mistress  Mehitable's  face. 

"  If  I  didn't  love  you  so  much,  Uncle  Bob,"  said 
she,  "  I'd  tell  Doctor  John  and  Doctor  Jim."  And 
from  the  fact  that  she  felt  embarrassed  by  this 
raillery,  the  conscientious  Mistress  Mehitable  was 
almost  ready  to  believe  she  had  done  wrong. 

The  dinner  was  at  two  o'clock  —  an  extremely 
formal  hour  for  Second  Westings;  and  a  further 
element  of  formality  was  added  by  the  presence  of 
the  Reverend  Jonathan  and  Mrs.  Sawyer,  which 
effectually  removed  it  from  the  category  of  family 
affairs.  These  outsiders,  however,  were  a  kindly 
pair,  and  cast  no  serious  shadow  upon  the  gathering. 
The  Reverend  Jonathan  kept  his  austerity  pretty 
strictly  for  the  Sabbath;   and  being  both  well-bred 


Barbara  Ladd  219 


and  well  educated,  knew  how  on  occasion  to  lay 
aside  his  cloth  without  sacrifice  of  dignity  or  pres- 
tige. He  was  something  of  a  bon  vivant,  too,  in  his 
scholarly  way,  and  among  folk  who  were  unimpeach- 
ably  of  his  own  class.  And  his  judgment  on  a  butt 
of  Madeira  or  a  hogshead  of  old  West  India  rum 
was  accounted  second  to  none  in  Second  Westings. 
His  hands  were  long  and  white,  and  he  used  them 
with  impressive  pulpit-gestures  to  point  his  carefully 
constructed  witticisms.  His  presence  was  favourably 
regarded  even  by  Barbara,  who  appreciated  his 
brains  and  breeding  in  spite  of  certain  disastrous 
associations  which  she  could  never  quite  erase  from 
her  memory.  His  wife  was  a  non-significant,  abun- 
dant, gently  acquiescent  pudding  of  a  woman,  not 
without  her  utility  as  a  background ;  and  no  one  but 
Barbara  had  the  slightest  objection  to  her  presence. 
But  Barbara,  having  a  fierce  impatience  of  nonen- 
tities in  general  unless  they  chanced  to  be  animals 
instead  of  human  beings,  felt  critical  when  her  eyes 
fell  upon  the  good  lady's  expansive  red  bosom.  She 
could  not  refrain  from  a  private  grimace  at  Doctor 
John,  and  from  whispering  in  his  ear  an  acrid  com- 
ment on  the  inviting  of  a  feather-bed  to  dinner. 
She  was  greatly  disconcerted,  however,  when  Doctor 
John  roared  aloud;  and,  crediting  the  good  lady 
with  an  intuition  quite  foreign  to  her  placid  sub- 
stance, her  conscience  smote  her  smartly  for  the 


220  Barbara  Ladd 


unkind  comment.  By  calculated  chance  she  man- 
aged to  let  herself  drift  into  the  scant,  unoccupied 
corner  of  the  sofa  on  which  Mrs.  Sawyer  was  sit- 
ting; and  for  the  long  half-hour  before  dinner  was 
served  she  beguiled  the  good  lady  most  successfully 
with  thrilling  descriptions  of  the  presents  which 
Glenowen  had  brought.  Mistress  Sawyer  was  dearly 
fond  of  dining;  but  so  enthralled  did  she  become  in 
the  description  of  Mistress  Mehitable's  French 
night-rail  that  she  did  not  hear  when  dinner  was  an- 
nounced. Then  Barbara  escaped,  with  an  appetite 
and  a  proud  conscience;  and  proceeded  to  deal 
Robert  a  cruel  blow  by  seating  herself  as  far  away 
from  him  as  possible,  between  Glenowen  and  Doctor 
Jim,  who  wisely  avoided  trouble  by  avoiding  inter- 
ference on  the  dejected  youth's  behalf. 

Doctor  John  and  Doctor  Jim  being  both  tena- 
cious of  old  Connecticut  customs,  the  dinner  began 
with  a  pudding  of  boiled  Yokeag,  or  maize  meal, 
stuffed  with  raisins  and  suet,  and  eaten  with  a  rich 
sauce.  Then  came  fish  and  meats  in  lavish  variety, 
with  ripe  old  ale,  followed  by  elaborate  confections, 
nuts  and  fruits,  and  a  fiery,  high-flavoured  Madeira. 
With  the  Madeira  came  eloquence  in  conversation, 
and  the  elaborate  interchange  of  repartee  and  com- 
pliment deepened  into  a  discussion  of  the  great 
matters  which  at  that  hour  filled  men's  minds.  Bar- 
bara tried  by  daring  gaieties  to  stem  the  tide  of 


Barbara  Ladd  221 

seriousness,  which  seemed  to  her  incongruous  with 
the  nuts  and  wine.  But  she  was  swept  away,  at  first 
reluctantly,  then  willingly ;  for,  during  the  past  two 
years,  in  the  intervals  of  fighting  her  aunt  and  loving 
her  cats,  dogs,  and  horses,  she  had  studied  history, 
both  colonial  and  English,  with  a  characteristic, 
avid  zeal,  and  now  had  a  pretty  foundation  of  theory 
under  her  seemingly  reckless  conclusions. 

In  response  to  many  interrogations,  Glenowen  had 
given  at  some  length  and  with  temperate  fairness  an 
account  of  the  latest  difference  in  Virginia  between 
the  royal  governor  and  the  stiff-necked  House  of 
Burgesses.  As  the  result  of  this  lamentable  clash 
of  authorities,  the  House  had  been  dissolved,  the 
Old  Dominion  was  being  governed  in  a  fashion  con- 
trary to  the  terms  of  her  long-cherished  charter,  and 
the  trade  of  the  colony  was  disastrously  shrunken, 
because  her  people  were  refusing  to  import  goods 
subject  to  duties  which  they  had  not  themselves  im- 
posed. "  When  men  and  women  begin  to  deny  them- 
selves voluntarily  for  the  sake  of  a  principle,  whether 
it  be  right  or  wrong,"  continued  Glenowen,  "  it  is 
time  for  those  at  the  helm  to  consider  clearly  the 
course  on  which  they  are  steering  the  ship  of  state !  " 

"  When  kings  lay  hands  on  charters,  free  men 
rise  up  armed,"  said  the  Reverend  Jonathan  Sawyer, 
rolling  the  polished  phrase  with  a  relish.  The  senti- 
ment sounded  so  at  variance  with  those  which  he 


222  Barbara  Ladd 


was  commonly  held  to  cherish,  that  every  one  looked 
at  him  for  a  moment  in  silent  question. 

"  I  speak  but  in  the  abstract,"  he  explained, 
waving  a  white  hand  airily.  "  In  the  concrete  the 
question  baffles  me,  and  I  wait  for  light!  " 

"  I  confess  I  am  astounded  at  Virginia,"  said  Doc- 
tor Jim,  in  a  great  voice,  solemn  with  reprobation. 
"  Virginia,  colony  of  gentlemen,  siding  with  the 
rabble  against  the  king !  Where  are  Virginia's  aris- 
tocrats?" 

"  Would  you  impugn  the  gentility  of  Mr.  Wash- 
ington? "  inquired  Doctor  John,  mildly. 

"  Yes,  I  would,  John  Pigeon,"  snapped  Doctor 
Jim,  "  or  of  any  one  else  who  did  not  show  his  gen- 
tility by  his  deeds.  And  so  would  you,  if  you  were 
not  a  bit  tarred  with  the  same  dirty  brush  as  Mr. 
Washington." 

"  Don't  you  think,"  ventured  Robert,  with  diffi- 
dence, "  that  our  grievance  —  for,  of  course,  there 
is  a  grievance,  Doctor  Jim  —  is  against  the  English 
Parliament?  What  is  Parliament  to  us,  that  we 
should  bow  down  to  it,  when  we  have  always  had 
parliaments  of  our  own?  What's  sacred  in  Parlia- 
ment? But  the  king,  —  that's  a  question  of  loyalty. 
What's  a  gentleman  without  loyalty?  Surely  the 
gentry  must  stand  or  fall  with  the  king !    Surely  —  " 

"  What  nonsense,  Robert !  "  interrupted  Barbara, 
severely  scornful,  indignant  at  him  for  his  views, 


Barbara  Ladd  223 


but  grateful  to  him  for  the  opportunity  to  express 
her  own  with  point.  "  Who  was  it  that  whipped 
King  John  into  submission,  and  made  him  sign 
Magna  Charta?  Was  it  the  riffraff  or  the  gentry, 
I'd  like  to  know?  Where  there  is  a  real  aris- 
tocracy, Robert,  there  is  no  need  of  kings !  " 

"Barbara,  dear!"  cried  Mistress  Mehitable, 
appalled  at  this  sweeping  heterodoxy.  But  the  others 
laughed,  with  varying  degrees  of  sympathy  or 
dissent.    Doctor  Jim  wagged  his  head. 

"  That's  right,  Robert,  my  boy,"  said  he,  sympa- 
thetically. "  You  draw  her  fire,  and  let  me  skirmish 
around.    That's  the  kind  of  thing  I  get  continually  1  " 

"  Is  it  true,"  inquired  Doctor  John,  "  that  that 
clear  and  capacious  intellect,  James  Otis,  is  perma- 
nently clouded  since  the  wound  he  got  in  the  affair 
with  the  king's  officers  ?  " 

"  '  'Tis  true,  'tis  pity;  and  pity  'tis,  'tis  true! '  " 
quoted  Glenowen.  "  A  fine  brain  wasted  in  a  smug- 
gler's brawl.  I  take  it  there's  no  wisdom  to  waste, 
among  either  Tories  or  Whigs,  these  days,  —  for 
these  days  are  big  with  Fate !  " 

"  Uncle  Bob !  "  said  Barbara,  fixing  him  with  a 
wide,  level  look,  "  what  are  you,  W  nig  or  Tory  ? 
You  seem  so  careful !  " 

Glenowen  laughed. 

"  You  insist  on  pinning  me  down  to  it,  do  you, 
saucy  hussy?    Well,  I  wish  I  knew!    I  think  there 


224  Barbara  Ladd 


are  some  hundred  thousand  or  more  of  honest  men 
in  these  colonies  who  are  trying  to  find  out  which 
they  really  are,  right  to  the  bone.  But  I  can  tell 
you  in  part.  For  one  thing,  T  am  an  Englishman, 
just  as  much  an  Englishman  here  as  if  I  lived  in 
England !    Do  you  know  what  that  means  ?  " 

"  No!  "  said  Barbara,  bluntly,  dissatisfied  at  this 
caution  when  she  counted  on  a  hot  partisanship. 

"  It  means  that  I  will  not  be  taxed  save  by  my 
own  consent!  I  am  too  good  an  Englishman  to 
let  Englishmen  in  England  treat  me  as  less  than 
an  Englishman  because  I  am  a  colonist.  But  I  am  no 
leveller.  I  have  no  patience  with  the  doctrine  of 
those  sentimental  Frenchmen  who  promulgate  the 
palpable  folly  that  all  men  are  born  equal.  I  am  loyal 
to  the  king,  —  or,  perhaps,  rather,  I  should  say,  to 
the  throne,  which  seems  to  me  just  now  unfortunate 
in  its  occupant.  But  I  will  not  pay  a  tax  imposed  by 
those  who  have  no  right  to  tax  me !  I  would  fight 
first.    I  stand  on  Magna  Charta." 

"  Then  you  are  a  patriot  now,  Uncle  Bob,"  said 
Barbara,  fairly  satisfied,  "  and  before  long  you  will 
be  a  rebel!  You  wait  and  see!  You're  all  afraid 
to  say  it,  but  before  long  the  colonies  will  be  fighting 
King  George !  " 

There  were  exclamations  of  protest  from  every 
one,  even  Doctor  John,  the  avowed  and  consistent 


Barbara   Ladd  225 

Whig,  —  every  one  but  Glenowen,  who  smiled 
thoughtfully  at  Barbara's  rashness. 

"Tut!  Tut!  You  little  fire-eater!"  exclaimed 
Doctor  John.  "  You  mustn't  bring  discredit  on  your 
party!  We  will  fight  with  constitutional  weapons 
for  our  just  rights,  and  bring  that  pig-headed  George 
to  his  senses.  We  must  teach  him  to  reign  properly, 
and  not  to  meddle,  that's  all.  No  throat-cuttings  in 
the  English  family !  " 

"  It  would  break  my  heart  to  fight  against  my 
countrymen,"  said  Robert,  earnestly.  "  But  if  they 
should  be  so  misguided  as  to  take  up  arms  against 
the  king,  I  should  have  no  doubt  as  to  my  duty. 
The  king  may  be  unjust;  but  if  so,  the  injustice  will 
doubtless  be  remedied  by  and  by.  But  better, 
surely,  suffer  some  injustice  than  be  traitor  to  your 
king."  This  speech  took  courage  on  Robert's  part, 
with  Barbara's  eyes  blazing  scorn  upon  him.  But 
he  looked  into  vacancy,  and  made  his  confession  of 
faith  regardless  of  consequence. 

"  You  fatigue  me,  Robert ! "  said  Barbara. 
"  Would  you  rather  betray  your  country  than  your 
king?  Was  the  country  made  for  the  king?  What's 
a  king?  Greece  and  Rome  did  pretty  well  without 
them!" 

"  What's  this  stuff  and  nonsense  about  fighting?  " 
broke  in  Doctor  Jim,  ignoring  Barbara's  argument 
as  the  chatter  of  a  child.    "  Stuff  and  nonsense !    The 


226  Barbara  Ladd 


notion  of  our  clodhoppers  standing  up  to  the  king's 
soldiers,  who  have  whipped  the  armies  of  the  world ! 
It  is  easy  for  demagogues  to  rant,  but  they'd  find 
it  still  easier  to  run !  " 

"  I  fear  you  all  underrate  the  peril  —  except  this 
sauce-box  here!"  said  Glenowen,  soberly.  "  And 
you,  Pigeon,  are  like  the  king's  purblind  advisers 
in  underrating  the  spirit  of  the  people.  It  is  not  a 
noisy,  but  a  sullen  temper  that  seems  to  be  spreading. 
And  clodhoppers  are  not  all  cowards!  And  those 
who  call  themselves  patriots  are  not  all  clodhoppers. " 

"  But  who  among  our  people  can  be  so  suicidal 
as  to  think  of  war?  "  asked  the  Reverend  Jonathan 
Sawyer,  taking  a  contemplative  pinch  of  snuff.  "  To 
fight  a  hopeless  battle,  and  in  inevitable  defeat  lose 
all!" 

"  It  is  not  the  people  who  think  of  war  as  yet !  " 
said  Glenowen.  "  But  the  arrogant  soldiery,  the 
blindly  self-confident  officials,  the  insolent  English 
officers,  who  seem  chosen  not  to  conciliate  but  to 
enrage.  So  many  of  the  officers  sent  out  here  do 
dishonour  to  the  repute  of  English  gentlemen.  They 
seem  to  look  on  colonists  as  a  subject  race.  I  have 
seen  them,  in  New  York  and  in  Boston,  treat  our 
ladies  with  an  insufferable  condescension,  such  as 
they  would  never  have  dared  to  show  toward  the 
same  ladies  in  England.  And  I  have  seen  them 
studiously  insolent  to  colonial  gentlemen  of  birth 


Barbara  Ladd  227 

and  breeding  far  above  their  own,  as  if  the  accident 
of  being  born  in  the  mother  country  instead  of  in 
America  made  them  another  race.  Such  conduct, 
while  unimportant  in  itself,  rankles  deeply,  and  sets 
the  two  branches  of  the  race  in  antagonism.  Per- 
sonal affront  is  mightier  than  argument,  and  men 
cannot  overlook  a  slight  to  their  women." 

"  I  should  think  not!  "  cried  Robert,  loftily.  "  I 
would  shed  the  last  drop  of  my  blood  for  the  king, 
but  I  should  not  let  the  king  himself  put  slight  upon 
one  of  our  ladies !  I  wonder  you  could  endure  to  see 
such  things,  Mr.  Glenowen!  " 

"  I  did  not!  "  confessed  Glenowen.  "  I  have  had 
several  differences  of  late !  " 

Barbara's  eyes  sparkled,  and  her  lips  parted 
eagerly  over  her  white  teeth. 

"  You  fought  them,  Uncle  Bob !  You  fought 
them !  "  she  cried.  "  Real  duels !  How  many  did 
you  fight  ?    Oh,  how  lovely !  " 

"  Two,  sweetheart,  I'm  sorry  to  say !  "  replied 
Glenowen,  modestly.  "  It  was  very  inconvenient 
and  annoying,  because  I  have  so  many  responsibili- 
ties and  could  not  afford  to  be  skewered." 

"And  how  did  you  come  off?"  asked  Doctor 
John,  leaning  far  over  the  table  in  his  eagerness. 

"  Nothing  but  a  scratch  or  two,  thanks  to  the 
righteousness  of  my  cause !  "  said  Glenowen. 

"  And  the  other  chaps  ?  "  inquired  Doctor  Jim. 


228  Barbara  Ladd 

"  Doubtless  they  were  low-bred  scoundrels,  whom 
London  would  have  none  of!  I  hope  you  pricked 
'em!" 

"  I  wish  I  could  feel  sure  that  their  manners  had 
mended  as  well  as  their  wounds !  "  laughed  Glen- 
owen,  gaily. 

Then,  to  Barbara's  ill-concealed  disgust,  Mistress 
Mehitable  led  the  way  into  the  drawing-room,  leav- 
ing the  men  to  smoke  long  pipes  and  thrash  out 
problems  of  constitutional  law  to  the  accompaniment 
of  the  fiery  old  Madeira.  In  the  drawing-room  she 
was  moody  and  silent,  grudging  all  the  arguments 
that  were  going  on  without  her.  And  when  Robert, 
who  felt  himself  too  unseasoned  to  stay  with  his 
elders  beyond  one  pipe  and  an  extra  glass,  followed 
the  ladies  at  a  decent  interval,  Barbara  received 
him  far  from  graciously.  His  last  speech,  in  com- 
ment on  the  insolence  of  the  officers,  had  mollified 
her  a  little,  but  she  felt  a  smart  resentment  at  his 
presumption  in  maintaining  views  so  opposite  to 
hers. 

"  I  should  think  you  would  stay  with  the  other 
men,"  she  said,  tartly. 

"  I  couldn't  stay  a  moment  longer,"  said  Robert, 
gallantly,  "  for  longing  to  be  with  the  most  fair 
if  not  the  most  gracious  of  ladies !  " 

"  You  had  better  go  back  and  learn  something 
about  your  duty  to  your  country,  by  listening  to 


Barbara  Ladd  229 


Doctor  John  and  Uncle  Bob ! "  she  counselled, 
rudely. 

Robert  bowed  low,  having  himself  just  now  well 
in  hand,  though  his  heart  was  sore. 

"  I  take  great  pleasure  in  listening  to  them,  as 
well  as  to  Doctor  Jim,  who  also  seems  intelligent !  " 
said  he. 

"  Oh,"  exclaimed  Barbara,  much  nettled.  "  Doc- 
tor Jim  talks  a  lot  of  nonsense  just  to  tease  me;  but 
he  doesn't  mean  it,  —  at  least,  not  all  of  it.  Besides, 
he  is  always  interesting.  But  you,  with  your 
pedantic  stuff  about  loyalty  and  kings  and  treason, 
I  don't  find  you  interesting  at  all!  Please  go  and 
talk  to  Aunt  Hitty  and  Mrs.  Sawyer,  and  let  me 
read.  Perhaps  I'll  be  able  to  forget  what  you  said 
at  dinner !  " 

"  It  is  my  pleasure  to  obey  your  lightest  wish, 
fair  mistress !  "  said  Robert,  inwardly  indignant, 
but  outwardly  amused  at  her  ill-humour.  He  went 
at  once  to  the  other  side  of  the  room,  and  exerted 
himself  to  such  good  purpose  that  soon  Mistress 
Mehitable's  rare  and  silvery  laughter  grew  frequent, 
against  an  almost  ceaseless  gurgle  of  content  from 
Mrs.  Sawyer.  Robert  was  completely  absorbed, 
while  Barbara's  interest  in  her  book  was  vexatiously 
divided.  After  half  an  hour  she  got  up  and  left  the 
room,  but  he  never  noticed  her  going.  Fifteen  min- 
utes later  she  came  back,  with  the  gray  and  white 


230  Barbara  Ladd 


"  Mr.  Grim  "  on  her  shoulder;  and  he  never  noticed 
her  corning-,  so  intent  he  was,  and  so>  successful,  in 
his  task  of  amusing  Aunt  Hitty  and  Mrs.  Sawyer. 
This  was  carrying  obedience  a  little  too  far,  and  it 
fretted  Barbara.  Then  the  men  came  in  from  the 
dining-room,  smoky,  and  a  little  more  fluent  than 
ordinary,  and  Robert  was  ousted  from  his  post  by 
Glenowen  and  Doctor  John.  But  instead  of  return- 
ing now  to  Barbara,  he  attached  himself  with  an 
engrossed  air  to  Doctor  Jim;  and  Barbara  found 
herself  established  in  her  nook  with  the  Reverend 
Jonathan  Sawyer.  To  be  sure,  his  Reverence  made 
himself  most  agreeable,  flattering  her  by  the  atten- 
tion he  would  have  paid  to  a  grown  woman  whom 
he  considered  intelligent.  He  appreciated  her  brains, 
and  acknowledged  the  lengthening  of  her  petticoats  ; 
and  his  attitude  was  a  gratifying  proof  to  her  that 
she  really  had  grown  to  be  a  personage,  rather  than 
a  child,  within  the  past  few  days.  But  she  found 
herself  unable  to  concentrate  her  wits  on  what  he 
was  saying,  and  passed  a  rather  grievous  hour  try- 
ing to  look  the  attention  which  her  brain  was  not 
giving.  When,  at  last,  Doctor  Sawyer  arose  to  go, 
she  felt  that  he  must  think  her  the  most  stupid  girl 
in  the  world.  Doctor  Sawyer,  on  the  contrary,  en- 
chanted by  the  rapt  silence  and  appreciation  with 
which  apparently  she  had  hung  upon  his  words,  went 
away  with  the  conviction  that  she  was  a  young 


Barbara  Ladd  231 


woman  of  astonishing  intellect,  whom  they  had,  in- 
deed, wronged  greatly  in  striving  to  force  her  into 
the  narrow  Second  Westings  mould.  From  that 
hour,  when  she  had  watched  him  with  glowing  eyes, 
but  hearing  scarce  a  word  of  all  his  wit,  the  Reverend 
Jonathan  Sawyer  was  one  of  Barbara's  staunchest 
champions. 

When  she  turned  from  saying  good-bye  to  Mrs. 
Sawyer,  Barbara  found  Robert  standing  close  beside 
her  in  the  hall  door,  apparently  absorbed  in  con- 
templation of  Mrs.  Sawyer's  billowy,  retreating 
figure.  Barbara  touched  him  on  the  arm,  and  he 
turned  to  her  with  a  quick  apologetic  courtesy,  as 
if  his  thoughts  had  been  far  off. 

"  What  were  you  thinking  of,  so  far,  far  away?  " 
she  asked,  feeling  somewhat  left  out  and  forlorn. 

"  WThy  —  why  —  I  was  thinking  —  "  he  stam- 
mered, as  if  unwilling  to  say,  yet  unready  with  an 
evasion. 

"  Oh,  you  needn't  tell  me,  if  it  is  so  embarrassing 
as  all  that !  "  said  Barbara,  tossing  her  head.  "  I 
was  going  to  say,  that  after  all  the  talk  and 
the  excitement,  I  think  the  loveliest  thing  would  be 
some  fresh,  sweet  air,  and  the  smell  of  the  woods ! " 

"  It  would  be,  indeed  —  with  you !  "  said  Robert. 

"  Then  we  will  ride  till  supper-time.  No,  —  there 
is  a  moon.  We  will  ride  after  supper.  You  may 
escort  me  if  you  want  to!    Do  you?  " 


232  Barbara  Ladd 


Robert  drew  a  long  breath  before  'he  answered 
—  and  to  Barbara  the  answer  was  sufficient. 

"  Yes,  I  want  to !  "  he  said,  simply.  "  I  was  afraid 
I  was  to  go  away  without  really  seeing  you  at  all !  " 

"  Go  away !  "  exclaimed  Barbara,  lifting  her  brows 
in  sharp  displeasure.  "  What  do  you  mean, 
Robert?" 

"  I  must  go  back  to  Gault  House  to-morrow 
morning,  without  fail,  for  I  start  for  New  York  the 
day  following,  to  be  gone  all  winter." 

"  Oh !  "  said  Barbara ;  and  turned  and  led  the 
way  back  into  the  drawing-room,  leaving  Robert 
completely  mystified  as  to  the  meaning  of  that  non- 
committal interjection. 


CHAPTER   XXL 

After  supper,  when  Barbara  came  down  dressed 
for  riding  and  calmly  told  Robert  she  was  ready. 
Mistress  Mehitable  gasped,  and  looked  at  Glenowen, 
expecting  that  he  would  meet  the  emergency  by 
making  a  third.  As  he  seemed  unconscious  of  the 
need  of  action,  she  shot  an  appealing  glance  at  Doc- 
tor Jim  and  Doctor  John  in  turn.  But  they  only 
grinned  inscrutably.  Then  she  lifted  her  hands 
slightly  and  let  them  drop  into  her  lap,  as  if  to  say, 
"  Bear  witness,  Heaven,  that  I  am  helpless !  "  and 
thus  she  stifled  the  voice  of  protest  in  her  bosom. 
She  had  given  Barbara  freedom,  and  the  responsi- 
bility that  goes  with  freedom;  and  she  would  not 
take  back  the  gift.  But  it  was  one  of  the  notable 
victories  of  Mistress  Mehitable's  career,  when  she 
forced  herself  to  sit  in  smiling  acquiescence  while 
Barbara  flew  full  in  the  face  of  all  convention. 
Amos,  meanwhile,  had  brought  the  horses  to>  the 
door;  and  when  the  two  young  riders  were  gone, 
the  hoof-beats  sounding  in  slow  cadence  down  the 
drive,  Glenowen  said  to  her,  with  an  understanding 
smile,  "  You  did  right,  sweet  lady.    Tis  a  filly,  that, 

233 


234  Barbara  Ladd 


to  be  ridden  without  the  curb.  Give  her  her  head, 
and  you'll  have  no  great  trouble !  " 

"  I  feel  sure  you  are  right,  Mr.  Glenowen,"  said 
Mistress  Mehitable,  sweetly.  "  But  you  may  well 
believe  it  was  a  hard  lesson  for  me,  a  Ladd  of  Con- 
necticut, to  learn.  And  I  fear  I  have  not  more  than 
half  learned  it  yet!  " 

"  You  can  learn  anything  you  have  a  mind  to, 
Mehitable,"  said  Doctor  Jim,  with  emphasis,  "  in 
the  time  it  would  take  another  woman  to  learn  the 
A,  B,  Cof  it!" 

Neither  Barbara  nor  Robert  spoke  till  the  horses 
emerged  upon  the  highway.    Then  Barbara  cried  : 

"  Quick!    Quick!    I  want  the  wind  in  my  face!  " 

With  two  miles  of  good  road  before  them,  they 
set  their  faces  to  the  night  breeze  and  their  horses 
to  the  run,  and  raced  madly  down  the  moonlight, 
their  shadows  dancing  long  and  black  before  them. 
The  saddle-leathers  creaked  a  low,  exhilarating 
music,  and  the  galloping  swung  like  a  pulse,  and 
the  roadside  fence  and  shrubs  fled  by,  and  the  world 
was  white  in  the  moonlight.  A.nd  still  there  was 
no  speech,  save  a  soft  word  now  and  then  to  the 
rejoicing  horses,  whose  ears  turned  back  for  it 
sympathetically  from  time  to  time. 

At  length  they  came  to  rougher  ground,  and 
slowed  to  a  eentle  canter.     Then  Robert  noticed  a 


Barbara  Ladd  235 


narrow  wood-road  turning  off  to  the  right,  vaulted 
over  with  lofty  trees,  and  mystical  with  moon- 
shadows. 

"Where  does  that  road  go,  my  lady?"  he  in- 
quired. 

"  Where  we  are  going !  "  answered  Barbara,  turn- 
ing into  it  at  a  walk.  Then,  as  if  she  thought  the 
answer  too  whimsical,  she  continued,  "  It  will  take 
us  back  to  the  village  by  a  longer  and  more  beautiful 
way !  " 

"  Any  longer  way  would  be  the  more  beautiful 
way !  "  said  Robert. 

The  reply  interested  Barbara,  and  in  musing  over 
it  she  forgot  to  say  anything  more. 

The  wood-road,  thick-carpeted  with  turf  and 
moss,  muffled  the  horses'  hoofs,  and  an  enchanted 
silence  sank  into  the  hearts  of  the  vounsr  riders. 
Here  and  there  the  woods  gave  back  for  a  little 
clearing  with  a  lonely  cabin;  and  the  moonlight 
flooded  in;  and  around  the  edges  of  the  clearing 
the  thick-leaved  branches  seemed  afloat,  bubbles  of 
glass  and  silver  on  a  sea  of  dream.  Then,  again, 
the  fairy-lit  glooms,  haunted  but  unterrifying !  And 
Barbara  began  to  think  repentantly  of  her  harshness 
toward  Robert.  Soon  the  road  dipped  sharply,  and 
crossed  a  wide,  shallow  brook,  upon  whose  pebbles 
the  horses'  hoofs  splashed  a  light  music.  Here  they 
let  the  horses  drink  a  mouthful,  because  Barbara 


236  Barbara  Ladd 


said  the  waters  of  that  brook  were  especially  sweet. 
When  they  emerged  on  the  other  side,  Barbara  dis- 
covered she  wanted  a  drink  of  it  herself,  so  sov- 
ereign were  the  virtues  of  that  water. 

"How  shall  I  bring  it  to  you?"  asked  Robert, 
instantly  dismounting,  and  casting  a  hasty  glance 
about  him  in  quest  of  a  birch-tree,  from  whose  bark 
to  make  a  cup. 

"  Make  me  a  cup  of  your  hands,  of  course!  "  said 
Barbara.  "  Give  me  your  reins.  I  must  have  the 
water,  at  once!" 

Robert  removed  his  leather  gloves,  rinsed  his 
hands  in  the  sliding  sand,  and  then,  with  mighty 
painstaking  care,  got  at  least  two  mouthfuls  of  the 
crystal  uplifted  to  Barbara's  lips.  As  she  sipped, 
and  light  as  a  moth  her  lips  touched  his  hands,  his 
heart  seemed  to  turn  over  in  his  breast,  and  he  could 
not  find  voice  for  a  word.  Silently  he  remounted, 
and  in  silence  they  ascended  the  slope  from  the 
brook.  His  apparent  unresponsiveness  puzzled  Bar- 
bara; but  an  awakening  intuition  suggested  to  her 
that  it  was  perhaps  not  so  uncomplimentary  as  it 
might  seem ;  and  she  was  not  displeased. 

For  half  an  hour  they  walked  their  horses  thus, 
Robert  sometimes  laying  a  light  hand  on  Black 
Prince's  shoulder  or  satiny  flank,  but  never  daring 
to  touch  so  much  as  Barbara's  skirt.     Then  they 


Barbara  Ladd  237 


saw  the  highway  opening  ahead  of  them,  a  ribbon 
of  moonlit  road.    Barbara  reined  up. 

"  I  think  my  saddle  is  slipping  a  little,"  said  she. 
"  I  don't  believe  Amos  can  have  girt  it  tight 
enough !  " 

"  Why,  I  —  "  began  Robert,  about  to  remind  her 
that,  like  a  good  horseman,  he  had  himself  looked 
well  to  the  girth  before  letting  her  mount.  But  he 
cut  the  words  short  on  his  tongue,  sprang  from  his 
saddle,  and  busied  himself  intently  with  Black 
Prince's  straps.  When  he  raised  his  head,  Barbara 
smiled  down  upon  him,  and  reached  him  her  left 
hand,  saying  sweetly: 

"  Thank  you,  Robert.  You  are  really  very  nice, 
you  know !  " 

Whereupon  Robert  bent  abruptly,  kissed  the  instep 
of  the  little  riding-boot  which  stuck  out  from  under 
her  skirt,  and  swung  into  his  saddle. 

The  action  thrilled  Barbara  somewhat,  but  at 
the  same  time  piqued  her  interest ;  and  the  interest 
dominated. 

"  Why  did  you  do  that,  Robert  ? "  she  asked, 
curiously,  looking  at  him  with  wide,  frank  eyes. 
"  I  didn't  mind  it  a  bit,  you  know !  But  it's  funny, 
to  kiss  my  old  shoe!  " 

Robert  gave  a  little  unsteady  laugh. 

"  It  was  homage,  my  lady,"  said  he.  "  Just  my 
pledge  of  fealty,  before  I  go.    You  forget  —  I  have 


238  Barbara   Ladd 


the  misfortune  to  displease  you  by  being  a  mon- 
archist !  " 

Barbara  was  silent  a  moment.  She  was  sorry 
he  had  reminded  her  of  their  differences  of  opinion. 
But,  on  the  other  hand,  homage  was  not  unpleasant; 
and  her  scorn  of  kings  did  not  of  necessity  extend 
to  queens. 

"  Why  do  you  go?  "  she  asked. 

"  My  grandmother  is  sending  me  at  a  moment's 
notice,  to  represent  her  in  a  law-scrape  which  some 
property  of  hers  —  of  ours  —  in  New  York  has 
suddenly  got  into.  You  know  that,  now  that  I  am 
through  college,  I  have  to  get  down  to  work  at  once 
in  New  York,  and  fit  myself  to  look  after  our  estates. 
But  I  didn't  dream  I  should  have  to  go  so  soon !  " 

"  I  am  sorry !  "  said  Barbara,  simply.  "  We  were 
having  such  a  pleasant  time  together !  " 

"  Were  we,  dear  lady  ?  "  asked  Robert. 

"  Weren't  we?  "  demanded  Barbara. 

"  I  am  broken-hearted  at  going.  I  dare  not  tell 
you  how  broken-hearted !  "  replied  Robert,  gravely. 
"  But  until  this  ride  I  have  been  rather  unhappy 
to-day,  for  you  have  several  times  made  me  feel  that 
you  were  displeased  at  my  coming!  " 

Now  Barbara  hated  explanations,  and  she  hated 
still  more  to  be  accused  justly.  Urging  Black  Prince 
to  a  canter,  she  retorted : 

"  I  have  no  patience  with  you,  Robert.     I  have 


Barbara  Ladd  239 


been  an  angel  to  you.  Didn't  I  ride  almost  half- 
way home  with  you,  when  you  were  here  before? 
And  now,  haven't  I  let  you  come  this  perfect  ride 
with  me,  —  when  I  know  Aunt  Hitty  thought  I 
oughtn't  ?  And  you  don't  deserve  that  I  should  even 
let  you  talk  to  me  one  minute,  when  you  are  such  a 
stupid,  bigoted  Tory." 

Robert  thought  of  many  things  to  say  in  answer 
to  this  dashing  flank  attack;  but  each  answer 
seemed  to  carry  unknown  perils,  so  he  kept  a  prudent 
silence.  After  some  time  Barbara  spoke  again,  mis- 
taking his  silence  for  contrition. 

"  Robert,"  she  began,  in  a  voice  of  thrilling  per- 
suasion, "  won't  you  do  something  I  very  much 
want  you  to  do?  " 

"  I  can  think  of  no  other  pleasure  to  compare  with 
the  pleasure  of  pleasing  you,  my  lady !  "  he  answered, 
ardently. 

"  Then,  will  you  not  really  study,  without  preju- 
dice, the  things  that  are  at  the  bottom  of  the  trouble 
between  us  and  King  George?  You  have  such  a 
good  brain,  Robert,  I  cannot  think  you  will  be  on 
the  side  of  a  king  against  your  own  country,  when 
you  have  fully  informed  yourself!" 

Robert  looked  troubled. 

"  I  can  honestly  promise,"  said  he,  "  to  study 
the  question  still  more  carefully  than  I  have  already. 
But  I  fear  you  will  still  consider  me  obstinate,  even 


240  Barbara  Ladd 


then.  If  I  could  imagine  myself  disloyal  to  the 
king,  I  should  not  consider  myself  worthy  to  pro- 
fess myself  your  ever  loyal  and  devoted  servant,  fair 
mistress !  " 

"  To  serve  me,  Robert,  you  must  serve  your 
country !  " 

"  And  to  serve  my  country,  most  dear  lady,  I  must 
serve  the  king!  "  persisted  Robert. 

Barbara  set  her  lips  tight  together,  and  galloped 
on. 

"  I  wish  you  better  wisdom  as  you  grow  older !  " 
she  said,  coldly,  after  some  minutes. 

"  The  best  wisdom  I  may  ever  hope  to  attain  will 
be  all  too  little  to  serve  you  with,  my  lady!"  an- 
swered Robert,  half  gallantly,  yet  all  in  earnest. 
And  Barbara  could  not  but  vouchsafe  a  reluctant 
smile  in  acknowledgment  of  so  handsome  a  compli- 
ment. Thereafter  there  was  little  more  said.  They 
rode  through  the  village,  past  the  lighted  inn,  up 
the  dim  moonlit  road  to  the  porch  of  Westings 
House.  But  when  Robert,  with  a  sort  of  bold  def- 
erence, lifted  her  from  her  saddle,  holding  her,  per- 
haps, just  a  shade  more  closely  than  was  requisite, 
she  felt  in  a  forgiving  mood.  She  knew  that  she 
liked  him,  she  knew  she  had  been  unpleasant  to 
him,  she  was  most  sorry  he  was  going  away;  and 
what  were  old  kings  anyway  that  friends  should 
be  at  loggerheads  about  them  ?    Answering  her  own 


Barbara  Ladd  241 

thought,  she  impulsively  pulled  off  her  glove,  and 
gave  Robert  her  bare  hand. 

"  We  will  be  friends,  won't  we,  king  or  no  king?  " 

And  the  radiance  of  the  smile  she  lifted  to  him, 
as  he  held  her  thin  little  hand  in  both  his  own,  nearly 
turned  the  poor  boy's  head.  He  bent  over  her  —  and 
just  saved  himself,  with  a  gasp,  from  kissing  the 
ignorantly  provocative  mouth  so  rashly  upraised. 
But  he  recovered  his  balance,  in  part,  and  compen- 
sated himself  by  kissing  the  hand  passionately,  — 
fingers  and  soft  palm,  and  rosy  oval  nails,  and  wrist, 
—  in  a  fashion  that  seemed  to  Barbara  very  singular. 
At  length  she  withdrew  the  hand  with  a  soft  laugh, 
saying,  composedly: 

"There,  don't  you  think  that  will  do,  Robert? 
You  did  not  kiss  Mrs.  Sawyer's  hand  like  that,  did 
you?  " 

"  Of  course  I  did !  "  declared  Robert.  "  There 
was  more  of  it  to  kiss,  so  I  kissed  it  more !  " 

"  Now  you  are  horrid !  "  she  cried,  and  ran  past 
him  into  the  house. 

But  when  he  said  good-bye  to  them  all  on  the 
porch  the  next  morning,  and  set  forth  on  his  long 
ride  back  to  Gault  House,  Robert  carried  with  him 
in  the  pocket  over  his  heart  what  Barbara  considered 
the  highest  token  of  her  favour,  her  well-studied, 
intimately  marked,  oft-slept-with  copy  of  Sir  Philip 
Sidney's  sonnets. 


CHAPTER   XXII. 

The  life  of  the  individual,  within  its  limits,  is 
apt  to  presenr  a  sort  of  microcosmic  image  of  the 
life  of  the  nation.  There  comes  a  period  of  stress, 
when  the  germs  of  change  and  growth  are  sown. 
Then,  apparently  without  reason,  time  drags.  The 
seasons  roll  apathetically  in  their  rut,  and  all  is 
done  as  it  was  done  last  year.  But  in  the  deeps 
the  great  impulses  are  maturing,  the  great  forces 
are  gathering.  The  hour  comes  that  looses  them. 
Then  in  an  instant,  it  seems  almost  without  warning, 
the  quiet  heart  is  in  an  insurrection,  the  people  of 
ploughshares  is  become  a  people  of  swords.  With 
a  life,  or  with  a  nation,  the  events  of  a  day  may 
crowd  ten  volumes,  or  the  annals  of  ten  years  leave 
a  page  but  meanly  filled.  Significauce  is  all.  We 
live  in  our  great  moments.  The  rest  is  a  making 
ready. 

That  blue  and  yellow  morning  of  sweet  winds, 
when  Robert  rode  away  from  Second  Westings,  and 
Barbara,  looking  after  him,  felt  three-fourths  re- 
gretful for  his  going  and  one-fourth  for  her  dear 
copy  of  Sir  Philip  Sidney's  sonnets,  was  a  morning 

242 


Barbara  Ladd  243 


in  the  late  summer  of  1769.  He  was  to  have  re- 
turned the  following  June.  But  neither  that  June 
nor  the  next,  nor  the  next  following  nor  the  one 
thereafter,  did  he  return  to  the  quiet  villages  of  Con- 
necticut and  the  banks  of  the  great  river  that  had 
given  him  birth.  From  year's  end  to  year's  end  he 
found  himself  tied  to  the  desk  in  his  mother's  broth- 
er's office,  the  office  with  the  coat  of  arms  over  the 
door,  and  the  diamond  windows  looking  out  on 
Bowling  Green.  He  worked  faithfully;  but,  being 
of  the  king's  party  yet  sturdily  American,  a  loyalist 
yet  alive  to  the  grievances  of  the  people,  a  Tory  yet 
not  intolerant  of  views  hostile  to  his  own,  an  aris- 
tocrat, yet  unfettered  by  the  traditions  of  his  clique 
and  clan,  he  had  all  the  social  diversion  that  the 
gay,  extravagant,  rich,  and  foppish  little  city  in  the 
toe  of  Manhattan  Island  could  afford.  Wealthy, 
well-born,  courtly,  and  kindly,  the  garlanded  snares 
of  the  mammas  of  Manhattan  were  laid  thickly  but 
vainly  for  his  feet.  He  was  squire  to  all  the  fair; 
but  not  one,  unless  by  some  of  those  thrilling  fic- 
tions with  which  maids  triumph  over  their  rivals, 
could  claim  aught  of  him  that  was  exclusive  or 
committal.  And  he  knew  Sir  Philip  Sidney's  son- 
nets by  heart. 

About  once  in  two  months,  or  thereabouts,  went 
a  letter  to  Second  Westings,  full  of  coloured  com- 
ment on  the  doings  of  the  city,  —  of  remarks  some- 


244  Barbara  Ladd 


times  stilted  and  sometimes  illuminating  on  the  latest 
books  from  London,  —  of  elaborate  compliments 
that  concealed  rather  than  revealed  the  emotion 
glowing  behind  them,  —  but  of  the  questions  of  the 
day,  of  Penal  Acts,  Port  Bills,  Tea  Duties,  Coercion, 
and  Continental  Congresses,  no  word.  Robert  had 
fulfilled  to  the  letter  and  the  spirit  Barbara's  demand 
that  he  study  minutely  the  points  at  issue  between 
the  colonies  and  the  king.  He  had  realised  the 
blindness  and  folly  of  the  king,  he  had  acknowledged 
that  the  colonies  were  right  to  resist,  by  every  con- 
stitutional means,  taxation  by  a  parliament  in  which 
they  were  not  represented.  But  his  loyalty  to  the 
throne  was  unshaken  by  his  regret  that  the  king 
should  be  unjust.  He  tried  to  believe  that  the  coun- 
sels of  the  great  Englishmen  whom  he  adored,  — 
Pitt  and  Burke,  the  friends  of  America,  —  would 
open  the  eyes  of  George  III.  in  time  to  prevent 
the  cruel  arbitrament  of  war.  But  —  should  it  be 
war,  —  well,  his  ancestors  had  bled  cheerfully  for 
Charles  Stuart  when  they  knew  he  was  in  the  wrong, 
and  Robert  felt  that  he  would  maintain,  at  whatever 
cost,  the  tradition  of  his  ancestors.  To  be  loyal 
to  a  good  king,  a  king  in  the  right,  where  was  the 
distinguishing  merit  of  that?  But  to  be  loyal  to 
a  king  in  the  wrong,  and  at  great  cost,  —  that,  to 
Robert,  seemed  loyalty  worth  the  name. 

Meanwhile  to  Barbara,  in  her  green  world  of 


Barbara  Ladd  245 


Second  Westings,  life  seemed  to  have  got  caught 
in  a  drowsy  eddy.    The  months  went  by  in  unevent- 
ful circuit,  for  all  the  echoes  of  great  doings  that 
came  up  from  time  to  time  and  stirred  the  tranquil 
air.     She  rode,  canoed,  read,  studied  spasmodically, 
bullied  Amos,  loved  the  animals,  distilled  strange 
essences,  repudiated  the  needle  and  the  crochet-hook, 
as  of  old.     As  of  old,  she  had  wild  whims,  repent- 
ances, indignations,  dreams,  and  ardours  born  of 
dreams.     But  all  these  things  had  grown  paler,  in 
a  way,  had  lost  something  of  their  bite  and  vivid- 
ness.    It  was  as  if  Fate  had  turned  a  screw  and 
changed  the  focus.     Moreover,  she  could  no  longer, 
as  before,  believe  each  mood  eternal  and  all-impor- 
tant.   She  had  a  consciousness,  that  there  were  other 
interests  lurking  in  life,  and  this  kept  her  in  an  atti- 
tude of  waiting.    But  the  love  between  her  and  Doc- 
tor John  and  Doctor  Jim  lost  nothing  in  this  wait- 
ing time,  but  grew  as  Barbara  grew  in  stature  and 
self-knowledge ;  and  she  lost  nothing  of  her  delight 
in  the  friendship  of  Mrs.  Debby  Blue,  to  whose  cabin 
she  would  flee  about  once  a  month,  when  the  vagrant 
blood,  growing  riotous  in  her  breast,  would  make  her 
tolerant  of  no  company  but  that  of  the  shrewd  old 
outlaw  dame.     As  for  her  aunt,  Barbara's  love  for 
the  blue-eyed  little  Puritan  spinster,  born  that  crucial 
morning  of  Mistress  Mehitable's  unexpected  forbear- 
ance and  seed-cakes,  flourished  and  ripened  with 


246  Barbara  Ladd 


not  one  serious  setback.  Of  course,  a  complete 
understanding  between  two  such  opposite  tempers 
could  not  spring  up  in  a  day;  but  Mistress  Mehit- 
sble  was  nothing  less  than  heroic  in  the  consistency 
with  which  she  held  herself  to  her  new  policy;  and 
Barbara,  having  been  astonished  into  an  incongruous 
devotion,  was  ready  enough  to  make  sacrifices  on  the 
new  altar.  Whenever  the  atmosphere  began  to  feel 
overcharged  between  them,  they  would  say  the 
nicest  things  they  could  think  of  to  each  other,  and 
then,  with  much  ingenuity  of  chance,  keep  apart  for 
two  or  three  days.  In  this  way  new  misunderstand- 
ings were  avoided;  till  gradually  the  natural  love 
between  them  set  deep  root  into  their  hearts,  and 
grew  strong  enough  to.  dare  such  tempestuous  flurries 
of  the  mood  as  cannot  but  blow  up  once  in  awhile 
when  two  women  are  living  alone  together. 

But  while  her  own  life  had  seemed  to  have  grown 
so  tranquil  that  she  wondered  if  things  had  forgotten 
to  happen,  Barbara  knew  that  in  the  outside  world  it 
was  different,  so  different  as  to  make  her  stillness 
seem  like  sleep.  In  the  outside  world  she  knew 
events  were  crowding  and  clamouring  upon  one 
another's  heefs,  under  a  sky  of  strange  portent.  She 
kept  herself  informed.  She  wrangled  lovingly  with 
Doctor  Jim ;  she  argued  tactfully,  though  hopelessly, 
with  Mistress  Mehitable;  she  debated  academically 
with  the  Reverend  Jonathan  Sawyer;    she  ranted 


Barbara  Ladd  247 


joyously  with  Doctor  John,  and  Squire  Gillig,  and 
Lawyer  Perley,  and  old  Debby,  all  four  patriots,  and 
the  last  two  frank  rebels.  For  the  sake  of  finding 
out  the  drift  of  Second  Westings  sentiment,  she 
cnce  in  awhile  emerged  from  her  prickly  exclusive- 
ness  to  smile  upon  her  fellows  of  quality,  and  was 
surprised  to  find  them  mostly  patriots  in  their  way, 
with  souls  that  strove  to  rise  above  embroidery 
and  tatting.  As  for  the  common  people,  the  work- 
men and  apprentices  and  their  kind,  she  got  at 
their  hearts  easily  in  her  impulsive  fashion,  and 
found  the  majority  of  them  slowly  heating  to 
rebellion.  In  Amos,  her  devoted  Amos,  however, 
she  unearthed  a  fiery  royalist,  ready  to  out- 
thunder  Doctor  Jim  himself;  so  she  ceased  to 
do  Amos  the  favour  of  bullying  him,  and  Amos 
grew  at  times  too  dejected  to  care  much  about  King 
George.  The  results  of  these  observations  she  con- 
veyed minutely  in  frequent  letters  to  her  Uncle  Bob, 
who  was  now  committed  to  the  so-called  "  Conti- 
nental "  side.  To  Robert  Gault,  also,  in  his  office 
looking  out  on  Bowling  Green,  Barbara  would  write 
about  once  in  three  months.  But  in  these  letters  she 
wrote  of  the  woods  and  the  winds,  of  what  blooms 
wrere  out  in  the  river-meadows,  of  what  birds  were 
nesting  or  winging,  —  and  never  a  word  of  what 
was  in  all  men's  mouths.  She  was  waiting  for 
Robert  to  declare  himself  converted  to  her  views, 


248  Barbara  Ladd 

after  digesting  the  course  of  study  to  which  she  had 
set  him.  And  she  refused  to  admit  the  possibility 
of  a  clear-headed  gentleman,  as  she  knew  him  to  be, 
being  so  misguided  as  to  cling  to  opinions  different 
from  her  own.  To  her  mind  Truth  was  a  crystal  of 
which  but  one  facet  could  be  lighted  at  a  time.  One 
side  of  a  question  was  apt  to  present  itself  to  her 
with  such  brilliancy  that  all  the  other  sides  were 
thrown  into  obscurity  together.  As  for  the  flam- 
boyant Toryism  of  Doctor  Jim,  she  regarded  it  with 
an  invincible  indulgence,  as  one  of  those  things  pre- 
ordained from  the  first,  —  a  thing  which  she  could 
not  even  regret,  because  without  it  Doctor  Jim, 
who  was  in  every  way  adorable,  would  be  so  much 
the  less  himself.  Who  cared  for  an  eccentricity  or 
two  in  a  being  so  big  of  body  and  soul  as  Doctor 
Jim  ?  But  she  could  not  help  being  glad  that  Doctor 
John's  eccentricity,  to  which  she  would  have  been 
equally  indulgent  in  case  of  need,  took  a  different 
form  from  Doctor  Jim's.  The  Toryism  of  her  Aunt 
Hitty  she  regarded  as  a  part  of  the  lady's  religion, 
and  with  that  Barbara  would  never  dream  of  med- 
dling. By  an  unspoken  understanding,  she  and 
Mistress  Mehitable  had  agreed  to  leave  each  other's 
sanctuaries  unprofaned. 

By  the  time  of  the  "  Boston  Tea-Party,"  a  little 
before  Christmas  in  1773,  Second  Westings  was  so 
established    in    its    stiff-necked,    though    indolent, 


Barbara  Ladd  249 


Whiggery,  that  Doctor  Jim  and  Mistress  Mehitable 
sat  enthroned,  as  it  were,  in  the  lonely  isolation  of 
their  Toryism,  with  Amos  proudly  humble  at  their 
feet.  The  Reverend  Jonathan  Sawyer,  whose  inter- 
est in  the  controversy  had  been  almost  wholly 
academic  from  the  first,  and  who  cultivated  on  all 
matters  outside  his  creed  a  breadth  of  mind  to  com- 
pensate for  his  narrowness  within  it,  had  judged  it 
right  to  follow  his  flock  where  he  could  not  lead  it, 
and  had  amused  himself  by  letting  Barbara  —  of 
whose  conquest  he  was  genuinely  proud  —  convert 
him  to  her  doctrines.  He  was  now  a  constitutional 
patriot,  a  temperate  and  conservative  champion  of 
colonial  privilege,  as  opposed  to  kingly  prerogative. 
When  came  the  soul-stirring  news  of  how  the  valiant 
men  of  Boston  Town  had  confronted  the  dread  tea- 
chests  in  their  harbour,  and  torn  them  piecemeal,  and 
cast  their  fragrant  contents  into  the  tide,  then  no 
soul  in  Second  Westings  but  Doctor  Jim,  Mistress 
Mehitable,  and  Amos,  would  drink  a  drop  of  tea  — 
except  in  private.  Certain  compromising  spirits, 
anxious  to  be  both  patriotic  and  comfortable,  had 
laid  in  a  supply  betimes,  and  so  without  public 
scandal  could  dally  in  secret  with  the  uninebriating 
cup.  But  Barbara  despised  the  alien  leaf  at  all  times ; 
and  Doctor  John  preferred  hard  cider  or  New  Eng- 
land rum ;  and  old  Debby  had  a  potent  concoction  of 
"yarbs"  which  made  the  Chinese  visitor  insipid; 


250  Barbara  Ladd 

so  Mistress  Mehitable  and  Doctor  Jim  were  free  to 
victual  their  strongholds  with  nearly  all  the  tea  in 
Second  Westings.  Over  the  achievement  of  the 
Boston  heroes  Mistress  Mehitable  was  gently  sar- 
castic and  Doctor  Jim  boisterously  derisive;  while 
Doctor  John  exclaimed,  "  Tut !  Tut !  such  child's 
play  does  no  good !  Such  mummery !  Tut !  Tut ! " 
and  Squire  Gillig,  ardent  "  Continental  "  but  cau- 
tious merchant,  said,  "  Such  wicked  waste !  There's 
a  lot  of  good  money  gone !  They  should  have  con- 
fiscated the  stuff,  an'  hid  it,  an'  sold  it  by  an'  by 
cheap,  along  through  the  back  townships !  " 

But  to  Barbara  it  seemed  that  the  act  was  one 
shrewdly  devised  and  likely  to  bring  matters  to  a 
head.  Her  reading  of  it  seemed  justified  a  few 
months  later,  when  the  port  of  Boston  was  closed, 
as  a  punishment  for  rebellious  contumacy,  —  and  the 
charter  of  Massachusetts  abrogated,  —  and  a  mili- 
tary governor,  with  four  English  regiments,  estab- 
lished in  the  haughty  city  by  the  Charles,  —  and  the 
capital  of  the  province  removed  to  its  ancient  rival, 
Salem. 

The  news  of  the  billeting  of  the  troops  on  Boston, 
and  the  removal  of  the  capital  to  Salem,  came  with 
a  shock  to  Westings  House.  It  came  in  a  copy 
of  the  Connecticut  Gazette,  delivered  at  Mistress 
Mehitable's  dinner-table  while  she  and  Barbara  were 
entertaining  Doctor  John  and  Doctor  Jim,  Squire 


Barbara  Ladd  25 1 


Gillig,  and  the  Reverend  Jonathan  and  Mrs.  Sawyer. 
It  had  been  a  gay  repast,  but  when  Mistress  Mehit- 
able,  craving  indulgence  by  reason  of  the  times,  read 
cut  the  Boston  news,  a  cloud  descended  upon  the 
company.  Squire  Gillig  began  to  say  something 
bitter,  forgetful  of  Mistress  Mehitable's  sentiments, 
but  was  stopped  by  a  level  stare  from  the  Reverend 
Jonathan  Sawyer's  authoritative  eyes.  Then  Doctor 
John  spoke  —  no  longer  droll  and  jibing,  but  with 
the  gravity  of  prescience,  and  turning  by  instinct 
to  his  brother. 

"  Jim !  Jim !  "  said  he,  "  this  is  going  to  mean  war. 
I  see  it !  I  see  it !  The  people  will  not  stand  much 
more,  —  and  more  is  coming,  as  sure  as  my  name's 
John  Pigeon.  Your  precious  king's  gone  mad. 
He's  going  to  force  it  on  us !  " 

Doctor  Jim  shook  his  great  head  sorrowfully. 
"  I  am  sorry  for  this,  John.  I  think  the  king  is  not 
well  advised  in  this  —  on  my  word  I  do.  It  is  too 
harsh,  too  sudden.  But  the  people  won't  fight. 
They  may  riot,  and  talk,  —  but  they  won't  fight.  We 
are  too  strong  for  you,  John.  There  will  be  no  war. 
That  would  be  absurd!" 

"  There  will  be  war !  "  repeated  Doctor  John,  still 
looking  into  his  brother's  eyes.  The  two  men  had 
forgotten  every  one  else.  "  There  will  be  war, 
if  not  this  year,  the  next.  The  people  will  fight,  — - 
and  that  soon !  " 


252  Barbara  Ladd 


"  Then  the  people  will  be  beaten,  and  that  soon, 
John !  "  retorted  Doctor  Jim,  firmly,  but  in  a  low 
voice. 

"  The  king's  armies  will  be  beaten,  Jim !  You 
mark  my  words!  But  it  is  going  to  be  a  terrible 
thing!  A  horrible  and  unrighteous  thing!  There 
will  be  dividing  of  houses,  Jim!  " 

There  were  several  seconds  of  silence,  a  heavy, 
momentous  silence,  and  Barbara  held  her  breath,  a 
strange  ache  at  her  throat.  Then  Doctor  Jim 
brought  down  his  fist  upon  the  table,  and  cried  in 
his  full  voice : 

"  A  dividing  of  houses,  maybe,  —  but  not  a  divid- 
ing of  hearts,  John  Pigeon,  never  a  dividing  of 
hearts,  eh,  what?  eh,  what?" 

He  reached  out  his  hand  across  the  table,  and 
Doctor  John  seized  it  in  a  mighty  grip.  The  long 
years  of  love  and  trust  between  them  spoke  suddenly 
in  their  strong,  large  faces. 

"  No,  never  a  dividing  of  hearts,  Jim,  in  the  days 
that  are  to  come,  when  our  swords  go  different  ways, 
and  we  see  each  other  not  for  a  time !  " 

Then  their  hands  dropped  apart,  and  both  laughed 
uneasily,  as  they  glanced  with  a  shamefaced  air  about 
the  table. 

"  Tut !  Tut !  "  said  Doctor  John.  "  That  precious 
king  of  yours  bids  fair  to  make  life  damnably  serious, 
Jim.     Send  him  away  from  the  table  at  once! " 


Barbara  Ladd  253 


But  the  diversion  came  too  late ;  for  Barbara  was 
weeping  heedlessly,  and  Mistress  Mehi table,  with 
her  white  chin  quivering,  was  dabbing  her  hand- 
kerchief to  her  eyes  with  an  air  of  vexation  at  her 
own  weakness;  while  good  Mrs.  Sawyer  gazed  at 
them  both  in  wide-eyed,  uncomprehending  wonder. 

"  If  there's  a  war,"  sobbed  Barbara,  "  you  sha'rit 
go  to  it,  either  of  you !  We  need  you,  here.  And  — 
and  —  you'd  both  get  killed,  I  know !  You're  both 
so  splendid  and  big  and  tall,  —  and  you  wouldn't  — 
take  care  of  yourselves,  and  the  bullets  couldn't  miss 
you !  " 

At  this  picture  Mistress  Mehitable  grew  pale, 
where  she  had  been  red,  and  cast  a  frightened  look 
at  Doctor  Jim,  then  at  Doctor  John,  —  then  back 
at  Doctor  Jim. 

"  Barbara's  right,  I  think,"  she  said,  with  an  air 
of  having  weighed  the  question  quite  dispassionately. 
"  You  should  not  leave  your  patients,  on  any  account. 
There  are  so  many  men  who  can  destroy  life,  so 
few  who  can  save  it.  Physicians  have  no  right 
to  go  soldiering." 

"That's  just  it,  honey!"  cried  Barbara,  flashing 
radiant  eyes  through  her  tears.  "  Oh,  what  a  wise 
little  Aunt  Hitty  you  are!  What  would  we  ever 
do  without  you !  "  And  her  apprehensions  laid  them- 
selves obediently  to  rest. 

"  Well,  well !  "  cried  Doctor  Jim.     "  What  are 


254  Barbara  Ladd 


two  graceless  old  dogs  like  us,  that  the  dear  eyes 
of  the  fairest  of  their  sex  should  shed  tears  on  our 
account?  We  should  go  and  kick  each  other  up 
and  down  the  length  of  Second  Westings  for  the 
rest  of  the  afternoon,  for  causing  such  precious 
tears,  —  eh,  what,  John  Pigeon?  " 

"  Tis  the  least  we  can  do,  Jim ! "  said  Doctor 
John.  "  But  now  I  come  to  think  of  it,  we  needn't 
arrange  to  go  to  the  war  before  there's  a  war  to 
go  to,  after  all." 

"  And  when  the  war  does  come,  you'll  both  stay 
right  here,  where  you  belong !  "  decreed  Barbara, 
holding  the  question  well  settled. 

"  Who  knows  what  may  happen  ?  "  cried  Doctor 
Jim.  "  You  stiff-necked  rebels  may  experience  a 
change  of  heart,  and  then  where's  your  war?  " 

"  Barbara,  sweet  baggage,"  said  Doctor  John, 
wagging  his  forefinger  at  her  in  the  way  that  even 
now,  at  her  nineteen  years,  seemed  to  her  as  irresisti- 
bly funny  as  she  had  thought  it  when  a  child,  "  I 
cannot  let  this  anxiety  oppress  your  tender  young 
spirit.  Set  your  heart  at  rest.  If  there  be  war, 
Jim  Pigeon  may  go  a-soldiering  and  get  shot  as  full 
of  holes  as  a  colander,  and  I'll  do  my  duty  by  staying 
at  home  and  looking  after  his  patients.  There'll  be 
a  chance  of  some  of  them  getting  well,  then!  I've 
never  yet  had  a  fair  chance  to  save  Jim  Pigeon's 
patients.    /  won't  desert  a  lovely  maiden  in  distress, 


Barbara  Ladd  255 


to  seek  the  bubble  reputation  at  the  cannon's 
mouth!" 

"  How  can  you  lie  so  shamelessly,  John  Pigeon?  " 
demanded  Doctor  Jim.  "  I'll  lay  you  a  barrel  of 
Madeira  you'll  be  leaning  against  the  butt  of  a 
musket  before  I  am ! '' 

"  Done!  "  said  Doctor  John. 

"  I  think  you  are  both  perfectly  horrid ! "  cried 
Barbara. 


CHAPTER    XXIII. 

That  day  of  the  news  was  a  boundary  day.  It 
set  sharp  limit  to  Barbara's  years  of  calm.  From 
that  day  events  came  quickly,  change  pressed  hard 
on  change,  and  no  day,  for  her,  was  quite  like  its 
predecessor.  A  veering  of  the  current  had  snatched 
her  from  her  shining  eddy,  and  swept  her  forth  into 
the  tide  of  life. 

On  the  morning  following  the  dinner,  while  still 
alive  to  a  sense  of  menace  in  the  air,  Barbara  received 
a  letter  from  her  uncle.  As  she  read  it,  her  eyes 
sparkled,  her  heart  bounded.  Then,  as  she  passed  it 
to  Mistress  Mehitable,  and  Mistress  Mehitable  took 
it  with  cheerful  interest,  her  heart  sank.  She  felt  a 
pang  of  self-reproach,  because  she  found  herself  will- 
ing to  go  away  and  leave  her  aunt  uncompanioned  in 
the  solitude  of  Westings  House.  Glenowen  had 
undertaken  certain  business,  in  the  way  of  searching 
records  and  examining  titles,  which  was  driving  him 
at  once  to  New  York,  and  bade  fair,  he  said,  to 
keep  him  there  for  upwards  of  a  year.  He  wanted 
Barbara  to  go  with  him.     And   Barbara's  pulses 

bounded.     There,  she  thought,  were  the  lights  and 

256 


Barbara  Ladd  257 


the  dances,  the  maskings  and  the  music,  the  crossing 
of  swords  and  wits,  the  gallants  and  the  compliments 
and  the  triumphs,  which  she  was  longing  to  taste. 
Mistress  Mehitable's  face  grew  grave  as  she  read 
the  letter.  It  grew  pale  as  she  looked  up  and  saw 
by  Barbara's  face  the  hunger  in  her  heart.  Mis- 
tress Mehitable  had  a  vision  of  what  Westings  House 
would  be,  emptied  of  the  wilful,  flashing,  vivid,  rest- 
less spirit  which  for  the  past  few  years  had  been  its 
life.  But  she  was  unselfish.  She  would  not  say 
a  word  to  lessen  Barbara's  delight. 

"  It  will  be  lovely  for  you,  dear !  "  said  she,  with 
hearty  sympathy.  "  You  are  just  at  the  age,  too, 
when  it  will  mean  most  to  you,  and  be  of  most  value 
to  you.    I  am  so  glad,  dear!  " 

But  Barbara  had  seen  the  look  in  her  face,  and 
gave  no  heed  to  her  brave  words. 

"  I  cant  go,  honey,  and  leave  you  here  alone!  " 
she  cried,  impetuously,  jumping  up  and  hugging 
the  little  lady  with  a  vehemence  born  of  the  effort  to 
convince  herself  that  what  she  said  was  true.  She 
felt  that  she  could  and  must  go ;  but  that  the  joy  of 
going  would  be  more  than  damped  —  drenched,  in- 
deed, with  tears  —  at  the  thought  of  how  much 
Mistress  Mehitable  would  miss  her,  of  how  empty 
Westings  House  would  be  without  her,  of  the  scar 
her  absence  would  leave  in  their  little  world.  With 
her  intense  individuality,  her  lively  self-concentra- 


258  Barbara  Ladd 


tion,  it  almost  seemed  to  her  as  if  their  little  world 
could  not  even  attempt  to  go  on  without  her,  but 
must  sleep  dully  through  her  absence. 

"  Of  course  you  will  go,  Barbara  dear !  "  said 
Mistress  Mehitable,  decidedly.  "  It  is  only  natural 
and  right  you  should  want  to  go,  and  go.  I  cannot 
pretend  that  it  makes  me  very  happy  to  think  of 
doing  without  you  for  a  whole  year.  No  words 
can  tell  you  how  I  shall  miss  you,  dear  child.  But 
I  should  be  a  thousand  times  more  unhappy  if  I  were 
to  feel  myself  standing  in  the  way  of  your  happiness. 
No,  no,  indeed,  don't  talk  any  nonsense  about  not 
going.  Besides,  your  Uncle  Bob  has  the  right  to 
have  you  with  him  for  a  while." 

"  Oh,  I  wish  you  could  go,  too !  "  sighed  Bar- 
bara.   "  Can't  you  ?    Then  it  would  be  lovely !  " 

Mistress  Mehitable  laughed  softly.  "  Not  very 
well  just  now,  child !  "  she  answered,  assuming  a 
gaiety.  "  Perhaps  some  other  time  it  might  be 
managed.  Now,  we'll  have  to  plan  about  getting 
you  ready,  —  and  your  uncle  has  only  left  us  a 
wretched  little  week  to  do  it  in !  " 

So  it  was  settled,  without  any  stress  or  argument 
whatever,  that  Barbara  should  go  to  New  York  with 
Uncle  Bob  just  eight  days  from  that  day;  and  so 
was  decreed,  with  such  effort  as  it  might  take  to 
order  a  breakfast,  nothing  less  than  a  revolution  in 
Barbara's  life. 


Barbara  Ladd  259 


While  the  two  women  were  discussing  weighty 
problems  of  dressmaking,  lingerie,  and  equipment 
various, — what  should  be  made  at  Second  Westings, 
and  what  should  be  left  to  New  York  shops  and 
the  tried  taste  of  Uncle  Bob,  —  Doctor  Jim  came  in, 
less  robustious  and  breezy  than  his  wont,  his 
eyes  big  with  momentous  tidings.  He  kissed  the 
ladies'  hands,  and  sat  down  thoughtfully  opposite, 
scanning  their  faces  from  under  bushy,  drawn  brows. 
They  both  looked  at  him  with  expectant  inquiry. 

"  You  were  most  intent  on  whatever  you  were 
talking  about!"  said  he,  presently.  "I  hope  I 
don't  interrupt!  May  I  hear  all  about  it?  Or 
should  I  run  away,  eh,  what?" 

"  You  never  interrupt,  —  or  if  you  do,  you  are 
forgiven  beforehand,  Jim !  "  said  Mistress  Mehitable. 

"  What  we  wrere  talking  about  will  interest  you, 
Doctor  Jim,  you  naughty  old  thing!  "  cried  Barbara, 
saucily.  "  It  was  petticoats,  bodices,  and  silk  stock- 
ings, and  such  like  feminine  frivolities!  But  what 
have  you  got  to  tell  us?  You  are  just  bursting,  you 
know  you  are.  Tell  us,  and  we'll  tell  you  some- 
thing!" 

"  John  Pigeon's  going  away  to-morrow !  "  said 
Doctor  Jim,  and  then  shut  his  mouth  hard. 

"What?  Going  away?"  cried  both  wTomen  at 
once,  scarce  crediting  their  ears. 


260  Barbara  Ladd 


"  Going  away  to  Hartford,  to-morrow,  to  take  a 
hand  in  organising  some  of  their  rebellious  militia!  " 
continued  Doctor  Jim.  "  I'm  ashamed  to  tell  you. 
But  he  was  ashamed  to  tell  you  himself,  thinking  you 
would  not  like  it,  so  he  sent  me  ahead  to  make  his 
peace  for  him.  It  doesn't  mean  anything,  you  know. 
Just  a  sort  of  bragging  counterblast  to  those  four 
regiments  of  ours  at  Boston.  I  wouldn't  be  down 
on  John  for  it,  eh,  what,  Mehitable  ?  " 

"  When  will  he  return?  "  asked  Mehitable,  feeling 
that  her  world  was  being  emptied. 

"  Down  on  him !  "  exclaimed  Barbara.  "  Why, 
it's  noble  of  him.  Think  how  it  will  encourage  all 
the  patriots  of  our  township !  "  Since  she  was  going 
away  herself,  Doctor  John's  going  was  easy  enough 
to  bear. 

"  I  wasn't  talking  to  you,  you  saucy  rebel !  "  re- 
torted Doctor  Jim.  "  We'll  have  that  crazy  little 
black  head  of  yours  chopped  off  for  high  treason, 
one  of  these  days,  if  you  don't  mend  your  naughty 
manners.  *  Patriots/  indeed !  Addle-pated  bump- 
kins !  But  "  —  and  he  turned  to  Mistress  Mehitable, 
—  "  you  asked  me,  dear  lady,  when  John  Pigeon 
would  return.  Within  a  month,  I  think.  He  will 
tell  you  more  precisely  for  himself !  " 

"  Jim,"  said  Mistress  Mehitable,  gravely,  "  we 
are  going  to  be  lonely  for  awhile,  you  and  I." 

"  Lonely!  "  exclaimed  Doctor  Jim.    "  That's  not 


Barbara  Ladd  261 


what  bothers  me.  It's  the  pestilent,  low,  vulgar 
business  that's  taking  him!  " 

"  Yes,  of  course/'  assented  Mistress  Mehitable, 
"  but  'tis  not  Doctor  John  only  that  purposes  to 
forsake  us,  Jim.  Barbara  is  going  to  New  York,  to 
stay  a  year." 

Doctor  Jim's  face  fell.  He  glared  at  Barbara  for 
half  a  minute,  his  shaggy  eyebrows  working. 

"  Nonsense,  child !  "  he  cried,  wilfully  incredulous. 
"  What  cock-and-bull  story's  this  ?  I  won't  have  my 
feelings  worked  upon!  " 

"  It's  true,  Doctor  Jim.  I'm  to  go  with  Uncle 
Bob,  next  week!"  said  Barbara,  very  soberly. 

"  But  you  sha'n't  go !  We  can't  spare  our  bad 
little  girl.  You're  too  young,  Barby,  for  that  wicked 
city  down  there.  We  need  you  here,  to  keep  us  from 
getting  too  good.  You  sha'n't  go,  that's  all!  You 
see  what  John  Pigeon'll  have  to  say  about  it,  eh, 
what?" 

"  I  must,  Doctor  Jim ! "  answered  Barbara. 
"  Aunt  Hitty  and  Uncle  Bob  have  both  decided  on 
that.  I  feel  homesick,  sort  of,  already,  at  the  thought 
of  it.  And  I  know  I  shall  miss  you  all  just  horribly. 
But,  oh,  I  do  want  to  go,  after  all.  It's  all  so  gay 
and  mysterious  to  me,  and  I  know  I'll  have  such 
fun,  And  it  will  be  so  lovely,  when  I'm  tired  of  it, 
to  come  back  and  tell  you  all  about  it !    Won't  it  ?  " 

"  Well !  Well !  I  suppose  we'll  have  to  let  her  go," 


262  Barbara  Ladd 


sighed  Doctor  Jim.  "  Thank  Heaven,  you're  not 
going,  Mehi table,  dear  lady !  " 

"I'm  glad  you're  not  going,  Jim,  —  either  to  New 
York  or  to  Hartford!"  said  Mistress  Mehitable, 
with  a  little  laugh.  Then  she  held  out  her  hand  to 
him,  flushing  softly. 

"  It  would  be  hard  indeed  for  me  to  go  anywhere, 
Mehitable,  were  you  to  bid  me  stay!  "  said  Doctor 
Jim,  kissing  very  reverently  the  hand  she  had  held 
out.  Then,  without  waiting  for  an  answer  to  this, 
he  hastily  turned  again  to  Barbara,  saying : 

"  By  the  way,  sweetheart,  Bobby  Gault  is  in 
New  York,  is  he  not,  —  eh,  what  ?  He  will  be  glad 
to  see  you  again,  perhaps!  It  is  possible  he  may 
help  make  things  pleasant  for  you,  eh,  you 
baggage?" 

But  Barbara  was  not  in  a  mood  to  repay  his  rail- 
lery in  kind. 

"  I  don't  know  that  I'll  make  things  pleasant  for 
Robert,"  she  answered,  thoughtfully,  "  if  he  still 
clings  to  his  ridiculous  views  about  kings  and 
things!  " 

"Tell  that  to  the  marines,  you  sly  hussy!"  ex- 
claimed Doctor  Jim,  regaining  mysteriously  his 
wonted  large  good  humour.  "  Don't  tell  me  this 
isn't  all  made  up  between  you  and  Robert !  " 

Barbara  looked  at  him  soberly  for  a  moment. 
Then  the  old  audacious  light  laughed  over  her  face, 


Barbara  Ladd  263 


her  eyes  danced  perilously,  —  and  Mistress  Mehit- 
able  felt  a  tremor  of  apprehension.  She  always  felt 
nervous  when  Doctor  Jim  had  the  hardihood  to  draw 
Barbara's  fire. 

"  Do  you  know,  Doctor  Jim,  I  don't  feel  quite 
so  badly  as  I  did  about  leaving  you  and  Aunt  Hitty! 
I  think,  you  know,  you  will  be  quite  a  comfort  to 
each  other,  won't  you,  even  if  Doctor  John  should 
have  to  stay  longer  than  he  expects  in  Hartford !  " 

At  this  moment  Doctor  John  himself  came  in,  to 
Mistress  Mehitable's  infinite  relief. 


CHAPTER   XXIV. 

When  Glenowen  came  to  Second  Westings  he 
was  in  such  haste  that  Barbara  concluded  he  had 
other  duties  in  New  York  than  the  searching  of 
records  and  verification  of  titles ;  but  with  unwonted 
discretion  she  asked  no  questions.  Affairs  of  state, 
it  seemed  to  her,  were  the  more  mysterious  and 
important  the  less  she  knew  about  them;  and  it 
pleased  her  to  feel  that  the  fate  of  commonwealths, 
perchance,  was  carried  secretly  within  the  ruffled 
cambric  of  her  debonair  and  brown-eyed  uncle.  From 
Second  Westings  they  journeyed  by  coach  to  New 
Haven,  and  from  that  city  voyaged  by  packet  down 
the  Sound  to  New  York.  Arrived  in  New  York, 
they  went  straight  into  lodgings  which  Glenowen 
had  already  engaged,  in  an  old,  high-stooped  Dutch 
house  on  State  Street. 

From  the  moment  of  her  landing  on  the  wiiarf, 
Barbara  was  in  a  state  of  high  exhilaration.  The 
thronging  wharves,  the  high,  black,  far-travelled 
hulls,  the  foreign-smelling  freights,  all  thrilled  her 
imagination,  and  made  her  feel  that  now  at  last 
unexpected  things  might  happen  to  her  and  story- 

264 


Barbara  Ladd  265 


books  come  true.  Then  the  busy,  bustling  streets, 
where  men  jostled  each  other  abstractedly,  intent 
each  on  his  own  affairs,  how  different  from  Second 
Westings,  where  three  passers-by  and  a  man  on 
horseback  would  serve  to  bring  faces  to  the  windows, 
and  where  the  grass  on  each  side  of  the  street  was  an 
item  of  no  small  consequence  to  the  village  cows ! 
And  then  the  houses  —  huddled  together,  as  if  there 
was  not  space  a-plenty  in  the  world  for  houses !  It 
was  all  very  stirring.  She  felt  that  it  was  what  she 
wanted,  at  the  moment,  —  a  piquant  sauce  to  the 
plain  wholesomeness  of  her  past.  But  she  felt,  too, 
that  it  would  never  be  able  to  hold  her  long  from  the 
woods  and  fields  and  wild  waters. 

Of  her  arrival  Barbara  sent  no  word  to  Robert, 
though  she  knew  by  somewhat  careful  calculation 
that  his  office  was  but  a  stone's  throw  away  from  her 
lodging.  She  looked  forward  to  some  kind  of  a 
dramatic  meeting,  and  would  not  let  her  impatience 
■ — ■  which  she  scarcely  acknowledged  —  risk  the  mar- 
ring of  a  picturesque  adventure.  When  Glenowen, 
the  morning  after  their  arrival,  gave  her  the  super- 
fluous information  that  Robert's  office  was  close  by, 
right  among  the  fashionable  houses  of  Bowling 
Green,  and  proposed  that  they  should  begin  their 
exploration  of  the  city  by  strolling  past  his  window, 
Barbara  demurred  with  emphasis. 

"  Well,"  said  Glenowen,  thinking  he  understood 


266  Barbara  Ladd 


what  no  man  ever  has  a  right  to  think  he  under- 
stands, "  just  as  you  like,  mistress  mine.  I'll  drop 
in  on  him  myself,  and  let  him  know  where  we  are, 
so  he  can  call  with  all  due  and  fitting  ceremony!  " 

"Oh,  Uncle  Bob!"  she  cried,  laughing  at  his 
density,  "  don't  you  know  yet  how  little  /  care  for 
ceremony  ?  Tis  not  that  —  by  any  manner  of 
means.  But  I  want  to  surprise  Robert,  —  I  want 
to  meet  him  at  some  fine  function,  in  all  my  fine 
feathers,  and  see  if  he'll  know  me !  You  know,  it  is 
five  years,  nearly,  since  we  saw  him.  Have  I 
changed  much,  Uncle  Bob?" 

"  Precious  little  have  you  changed,  sweet  minx !  " 
answered  Glenowen.  "  You're  just  the  same  small, 
peppery,  saucy,  unmanageable,  thin  brown  witch 
that  you  were  then,  only  a  little  taller,  a  little  more 
good-looking,  a  little  —  a  very  little  —  more  digni- 
fied. No  fear  but  he'd  know  you,  though  he  saw 
you  not  for  a  score  of  years.  'Twere  as  easy 
perhaps  for  a  man  to  hate  you  as  love  you,  my 
Barbe!    But  forget  you!     Oh,  no!  " 

So  it  was  that  in  the  walks  which  they  took  about 
the  point  of  Manhattan  Island,  during  the  first  three 
or  four  days  after  their  coming,  they  avoided 
Bowling  Green,  save  in  the  dim  hours  of  twilight; 
and  Glenowen,  prone  to  humour  Barbara  in  every- 
thing, had  a  care  to  shun  the  resorts  which  Robert 
Gault  affected.     He  learned,  by  no  means  to  his 


Barbara  Ladd  267 


surprise,  that  Robert  was  uncompromisingly  com- 
mitted to  the  Tory  party,  but  this  he  did  not  feel 
called  upon  to  tell  Barbara. 

"  Time  enough !  Time  enough !  "  said  he  to  him- 
self, half  whimsical,  half  sorrowful.  "  Let  the  child 
have  her  little  play  with  all  the  mirth  that's  in  it! 
Let  hearts  not  bleed  until  they  must!  She  won't 
forgive  him,  —  and  he  won't  yield,  —  or  I'm  not 
Bob  Glenowen!  " 

In  New  York,  where  most  of  his  life  had  been 
spent,  Glenowen  knew  everybody ;  and  he  was  per- 
sona grata  to  almost  everybody  of  consequence.  His 
standing  was  so  impregnable,  his  antecedents  so  un- 
impeachable, his  social  talents  so  in  demand,  that 
even  the  most  arrogant  of  the  old  Tory  aristocrats 
—  the  Delanceys,  the  Philipses,  the  Beverley  Robin- 
sons —  were  not  disposed  to  let  their  hostility  to 
his  views  hamper  their  hospitality  to  his  person. 

It  followed,  therefore,  as  a  matter  of  course, 
that  almost  before  she  had  gathered  her  wits 
after  the  excitement  of  the  journey  and  the  changed 
surroundings,  Barbara  found  herself  afloat  upon  the 
whirl  of  New  York  gaieties.  Every  night,  in  the 
solitude  of  her  bedroom  in  the  old  Dutch  house,  in 
the  discreet  confidence  of  her  pillow,  she  was  home- 
sick, very  homesick,  and  a  child  again.  She  would 
sob  for  Aunt  Hitty,  and  Doctor  John,  and  Doctor 
Jim,  —  and     for    big,     round-faced,     furry     "  Mr. 


268  Barbara  Ladd 

Grim/'  whom  she  had  so  tearfully  left  behind,  — 
and  for  Black  Prince,  who,  she  felt  sure,  would  let 
no  one  else  ride  him  in  her  absence,  —  and  for  dear 
old  Debby  in  her  lonely  cabin.  She  would  think 
very  tenderly  of  Amos,  —  and  then,  with  a  very  pas- 
sion of  tenderness,  of  her  own  little  room  over  the 
porch,  now  silent  and  deserted.  With  great  surges  of 
pathos  she  would  picture  Mistress  Mehitable  going 
into  the  little  room  every  day,  and  dusting  it  a  bit, 
and  then  sitting  down  by  the  bed  and  wishing  Bar- 
bara would  come  back.  In  such  a  melting  mood 
Barbara  would  resolve  not  to  be  horrid  any  more, 
but  to  send  for  Robert  the  first  thing  in  the  morning, 
and  tell  him  just  how  glad  she  was  to  see  him. 

But  when  morning  came,  she  would  be  no  more 
the  homesick  child,  but  a  very  gay,  petulant,  spoiled, 
and  sparkling  young  woman,  her  head  full  of  excite- 
ments and  conquests  to  come. 


CHAPTER   XXV. 

To  her  first  ball  Barbara  went  in  a  chair,  just  five 
days  after  her  arrival  in  New  York.  The  method 
of  locomotion  appealed  greatly  to  her  mood ;  and  as 
the  bearers  jogged  her  gently  along,  she  kept  her 
piquant  face  at  the  window  and  felt  as  if  she  were 
playing  one  of  the  pictures  of  court  ladies  on  their 
way  to  St.  James's,  —  ladies  such  as  she  had  often 
dreamed  over  in  the  London  prints.  For  this  ball, 
given  at  the  Van  Griff  house,  just  a  few  blocks  from 
her  own  lodgings,  she  was  dressed  in  the  very  height 
of  the  mode,  as  to  all  save  her  hair.  She  was  obsti- 
nate in  her  aversion  to  the  high,  elaborate  coiffure, 
—  in  her  adherence  to  the  simple  fashion  and  the 
single  massive  curl  which  she  had  decided  upon, 
after  many  experiments,  as  best  becoming  her 
face.  She  liked  her  hair,  accounting  it  her  only 
beauty,  and  rather  than  disguise  it  she  would  let 
the  mode  go  hang.  For  the  rest,  her  attire  met  the 
severest  demands  of  Uncle  Bob,  who  was  even  won, 
at  the  last,  to  approve  what  he  called  her  eccen- 
tricity in  the  matter  of  hair.  He  decided  that 
her  very  precise  modishness  in  other  respects  would 

269 


270  Barbara  Ladd 


prove  her  title  to  independence  in  the  one  respect; 
and  it  was  with  unqualified  satisfaction  that  he 
contemplated  the  effect  she  would  produce  on  the 
New  York  fashionables. 

"  Are  you  sure  I  look  fit  to  be  seen  with  you, 
Uncle  Bob?"  she  had  inquired,  anxiously,  the  last 
thing  before  they  set  out.  "  You  are  such  a  beau, 
you  dear;    and  so  distinguished-looking!" 

"  I  shall  take  no  discredit  by  reason  of  you,  I 
think !  "  answered  Glenowen,  dryly.  "  Unless,  in- 
deed, by  reason  of  the  slayings  of  your  eyes!  But 
slay  the  gallants,  slay  them,  sweeetheart!  They 
be  king's  men,  mostly,  —  and  there'll  be  so  many 
the  less  to  fight,  by  and  by,  for  the  king !  " 

"  I'll  do  what  such  a  homely  little  brown  thing 
can !  "  laughed  Barbara,  blithely,  an  excited  thrill 
in  her  voice.  But  even  at  the  moment  her  heart 
misgave  her,  at  the  thought  that,  more  than  likely, 
Robert  was  one  of  these  same  "  king's  men !  " 

This  first  ball,  at  the  Van  Griffs',  was  to  Barbara 
a  whirl  of  lights,  and  colours,  and  flowers,  and  bow- 
ing, promenading,  pirouetting  forms.  The  spacious 
rooms  and  shining  floors  and  smiling  faces  and  stir- 
ring music  intoxicated  her.  The  variety  and  bright- 
ness of  the  costumes  astonished  her,  the  women's 
dresses  being  fairly  outshone  by  the  strong  colours 
of  the  uniforms  worn  by  the  English  officers,  and 
by  the  even  more  dazzling  garb  affected  by  the 


Barbara  Ladd  27 1 


civilians.  Yet  if  all  this  bewildered  her  heart,  out- 
wardly she  was  at  ease,  composed,  and  ready;  and 
Glenowen,  across  the  room,  watching  her  the  centre 
of  a  group  of  eager  gallants,  —  fop,  officer,  and 
functionary  alike  clamouring  for  her  hand  in  the 
dance,  —  wondered  if  this  could  be  the  headlong, 
hard-riding  little  hussy  whom  he  had  brought  from 
the  wilds  of  Second  Westings.  The  stately  belles 
of  Manhattan,  beauties  serene  or  beauties  gay, 
sisters  to  the  lily  or  sisters  to  the  poppy  and  the 
tulip,  eyed  with  critical  half-disfavour  this  wilding 
rose  from  the  backwoods,  agreed  that  she  was  queer- 
looking  if  not  ugly,  and  resented  her  independence 
in  wearing  her  hair  so  as  to  display  its  beauties  to 
full  advantage.  That  she  was  well  gowned  and 
danced  well,  they  were  in  general  fair  enough  to 
acknowledge ;  but  they  could  not  see  why  so  many 
men  found  her  interesting  to  talk  to.  In  a  word, 
she  was  a  success  from  the  start.  She  went  home 
at  last,  very  wide-eyed,  tired,  triumphant,  excited 
—  and  disappointed.  She  had  not  seen  Robert.  She 
had  just  once  heard  his  name,  spoken  casually,  as 
that  of  one  whose  absence  seemed  a  thing  unusual, 
whose  presence  seemed  a  thing  to  be  desired.  She 
knew  that  she  had  made  an  impression.  She  knew, 
even,  that  she  had  made  herself  popular,  at  least 
with  the  men.  With  her  accustomed  candour  she 
had  proclaimed  herself  a  rebel,  in  response  to  some 


272  Barbara  Ladd 


jest  at  the  expense  of  Boston,  and  had  settled  the 
score  thrice  over  by  her  witty  jibes  at  King  George. 
But  even  in  that  royalist  circle  her  audacity  had  done 
her  no  harm.  The  English  officers  themselves,  car- 
ried away  by  her  brilliance  and  amused  by  her  dar- 
ing, were  loudest  in  their  applause.  They  not 
unreasonably  agreed  in  their  hearts  that  it  could  do 
the  king  no  harm,  while  it  undoubtedly  would  be 
a  great  satisfaction  to  themselves,  if  they  could  win 
some  favour  in  the  eyes  of  this  most  bewildering 
and  provocative  little  rebel.  Perceiving  this,  Bar- 
bara had  not  spared  her  shafts ;  and  the  most  deeply 
wounded  of  her  victims  had  been  the  most  assiduous 
of  her  admirers.  But  of  all  the  men  who  had  been 
presented  to  her,  danced  with  her,  paid  court  to  her, 
of  all  the  women  whom  she  had  met,  favoured, 
or  in  clash  of  glances  subtly  defied,  she  retained  but 
a  bright  jumble  of  unassorted  names  and  faces.  One 
only  had  gained  a  foothold  in  her  remembrance.  A 
certain  young  officer  in  the  colonial  militia,  one  Cary 
Patten  by  name,  had  been  presented  to  her  by  her 
uncle  with  particular  commendation,  as  being  alto- 
gether of  his  own  way  of  thought;  and  him,  for 
his  laughing  blue  eyes,  his  frank  mouth,  his  broad 
shoulders,  and  his  boyish  swagger,  she  had  liked  so 
well  that  he  stood  out  among  her  impressions,  and 
she  felt  it  would  be  pleasant  to  meet  him  again.    In 


Barbara   Ladd  273 


fact,  to  his  open  and  immense  elation,  she  had  told 
him  so. 

"Well,  mistress  mine,  how  did  you  like  it?" 
asked  Glenowen,  as,  candle  in  one  hand  and  skirts 
in  the  other,  she  held  up  her  face  to  be  kissed  good- 
night. 

"  Oh,  I  loved  it,  Uncle  Bob!  "  she  answered,  with 
conviction. 

"  Well,  it  loved  you !  "  said  Uncle  Bob. 

But  as  he  turned  away  to  his  own  room,  he  won- 
dered if  Barbara  was  really  quite  as  satisfied  as  she 
professed,  or  whether  her  failure  to  meet  Robert, 
and  include  him  among  the  numbers  of  her  slain,  had 
clouded  at  all  the  splendour  of  her  triumph. 

Two  evenings  later  there  was  another  ball,  an  alto- 
gether bigger  and  more  imposing  function,  at  the 
house  of  the  Surveyor-General  half  a  mile  out  of 
town.  At  this,  as  she  was  told,  every  one  would 
be  present,  and  therefore,  she  agreed,  Robert  would 
certainly  appear.  With  a  view  to  circumstances 
which  might  conceivably  arise  in  the  event  of 
Robert's  appearance,  she  had  with  great  difficulty 
kept  a  number  of  dances  free,  when  her  admiring 
cavaliers  at  the  Van  Griffs'  were  striving  to  fill  her 
cards  in  advance.  If  he  should  fail  to  come,  — 
well,  she  had  reason  to  think  that  she  would  not 
be  left  to  languish  unattended. 

Meanwhile,  however,  she  little  knew  how  violently 


274  Barbara  Ladd 


her  pretty  scheme  was  being  brought  to  nought,  she 
little  knew  how  emphatically  Robert  was  being 
enlightened  as  to  her  presence  in  New  York.  She 
should,  indeed,  have  thought  that  the  story  of  her 
triumphs  at  the  Van  Griffs'  would  reach  his  ears, 
for  on  the  day  following  that  event,  her  maid,  a 
garrulous  West  Indian  mulatto  whom  Glenowen 
nad  engaged  immediately  on  their  arrival,  had  told 
her  over  her  toilet  that  her  name  was  already  the 
toast  of  the  finest  gentlemen  in  town.  But  somehow 
it  never  occurred  to  her  that  Robert  would  hear  any- 
thing. She  thought  of  him  only  as  riding,  or  pad- 
dling a  canoe,  or  sitting  at  his  desk,  or  going  to  balls 
and  wandering  about  alone,  thinking  of  her,  gravely 
smiling  now  and  then,  courteous,  and  silent.  As  a 
vital  factor  in  this  glittering  life  he  had  never  pre- 
sented himself  to  her  imagination,  —  or  it  is  possible 
she  might  have  written  to  him  from  Second  West- 
ings more  often  than  twice  or  thrice  in  the  year! 

The  house  of  the  Surveyor-General  stood  behind 
its  trees  far  back  from  the  road,  on  a  series  of  ter- 
races set  with  walks,  parterres,  trimmed  hedges, 
statuary,  and  secret  arbours.  The  house  was  a  blaze 
of  light.  The  terraces  were  lighted  with  a  gay  dis- 
cretion, here  shining,  there  enshadowed.  As  she 
drove  up  with  her  uncle  in  the  coach,  a  little  late,  and 
heard  the  music  and  the  musical  babble  of  voices, 
Barbara  thrilled  deliciously,  with  a  prescience  that 


Barbara  Ladd  275 


this  was  to  be  an  eventful  night.  She  was  no  longer 
dazzled,  —  only  strung  to  the  highest  tension.  She 
realised  that  all  this  was  her  birthright,  to  be  used, 
played  with,  thrown  aside  when  tired  of,  but  mean- 
while enjoyed  to  the  topmost  pitch  of  relish,  —  hers 
just  as  much  as  the  buttercup  fields,  the  thrush- 
sweet  orchards,  the  ancient  woods  of  Connecticut. 
She  felt  herself  mistress  of  the  situation. 

"  Oh,  Uncle  Bob,"  she  whispered,  drawing  a 
quick  breath  of  anticipation,  as  she  gave  him  her 
hand  and  stepped  daintily  from  the  coach,  her  high- 
buckled,  high-heeled  white  satin  slippers  and  little 
white  silken  ankles  glimmering  for  an  instant  to  the 
ensnaring  of  the  favoured  eye,  —  "  oh,  Uncle  Bob, 
isn't  it  lovely?  " 

"  You  are,  my  Barbe !  "  he  answered,  peering 
down  with  high  content  upon  the  small  disastrous 
face  half-hidden  in  the  hood  of  her  scarlet  cardinal. 

"  Let  me  tell  you,  Uncle  Bob,  you  look  extremely 
nice  yourself!"  she  responded,  squeezing  his  hand 
hard.  "  I  didn't  see  one  other  man  at  Mr.  Van 
Griff's  so  handsome  and  distinguished-looking  as 
you !  " 

"  Dear  me !  "  retorted  Glenowen,  musingly,  "  what 
is  the  baggage  going  to  ask  me  for  to-morrow? 
Whatever  it  be,  she  must  have  it!  " 

Barbara  reached  her  hostess  with  difficulty,  and 
was  given  small  time  for  her  greetings.    All  through 


276  Barbara  Ladd 


her  first  dance  she  was  so  absorbed  in  looking  for 
Robert  that  she  paid  scant  attention  to  her  partner's 
compliments,  though  she  realised  that  they  contained 
imcomprehensible  veiled  reference  to  something- 
which  she  Was  supposed  to  know  all  about.  To 
her  partner,  one  Jerry  Waite  by  name,  her  ignorance 
seemed  assumed,  and  vastly  well  assumed ;  and  pres- 
ently with  his  growing  admiration  for  her  clever- 
ness came  a  dread  lest  he  should  transgress,  so  he 
diplomatically  shifted  to  new  ground.  But  had  she 
not  been  quite  absorbed  in  her  quest,  Barbara's  most 
lively  curiosity  would  have  been  awakened  by  his 
meaning  words. 

At  last  she  sat  down  by  a  curtained  doorway  and 
sent  Mr.  Waite  to  get  her  fan,  that  she  might  make 
up  her  mind  as  to  the  advisability  of  inquiring 
frankly  about  Robert.  Her  scheme  was  working  too 
slowly  for  her  impatient  spirit;  and,  moreover,  it 
was  beginning  to  dawn  upon  her  that  Robert  might 
not  unnaturally  feel  aggrieved,  and  perhaps  even 
prove  difficult  and  exasperating,  if  she  did  not  see 
him  soon.  She  had  about  concluded  to  invoke  the 
aid  of  Uncle  Bob,  —  with  whom  she  was  by  and 
by  to  dance  the  minuet,  —  when  a  word  behind 
the  curtain  caught  her  ear. 

"  La!  Mr.  Gault!  "  cried  a  pretty,  affected,  high- 
pitched  voice.  "  Who  thought  we  should  be  so 
favoured  as  to  see  you  here  to-night !    Not  dancing, 


Barbara  Ladd  277 


surely!  But  'twere  less  cruel  to  us  poor  maids  to 
stay  away  entirely,  than  to  come  and  let  us  look 
and  pine  in  vain.  But  you  are  very  white,  —  sit 
down  by  me  and  tell  me  all  about  it.  La,  there's 
nothing  I  so  love !  " 

It  wras  Robert's  voice  that  answered,  —  Robert's 
voice,  but  grown  deeper,  stronger,  more  assured, 
than  as  Barbara  thought  she  remembered  it. 

"  It  was  nothing  at  all,  dear  Miss  Betty,  —  a 
mere  scratch !  "  he  answered.  "  Tis  but  the  loss  of 
a  little  blood  makes  me  paler  than  ordinary,  I  sup- 
pose. But  the  doctor  said  there  was  no  reason  in 
the  world  I  should  not  look  in  on  the  gaieties  for  a 
minute  or  two,  —  and  see  what  new  wonder  of  a 
gown  Miss  Betty  was  wearing,  —  provided  I  gave 
my  word  not  to  dance." 

Barbara  was  conscious  of  the  rustle  of  Miss 
Betty's  flirtatious  fan. 

"  La,  sir !  "  cried  the  pretty,  high  voice  again, 
"  you  make  light,  of  it ;  but  they  tell  me  it  was 
very  handsome  done.  And  is  it  true  that  poor 
Carberry  is  in  a  bad  way  ?  Fie  upon  you,  Mr.  Gault, 
to  spit  an  officer  of  the  king  and  so  strengthen  the 
hands  of  the  enemy." 

Barbara's  heart  was  beating  very  fast.  So 
Robert  had  been  fighting  a  duel,  had  he !  And  been 
wounded,  —  but  slightly !  And  the  quarrel  with  an 
officer  of  the  king!    This  looked  as  if  her  anxieties 


278  Barbara  Ladd 


were  unfounded.  But  on  the  other  hand,  this  lo- 
quacious girl  —  whom  Barbara  despised  instantly 
and  honestly  —  seemed  to  claim  him  as  belonging 
to  the  king's  party.  Barbara  trembled  with  excite- 
ment, and  with  fear  lest  her  absent  escort  should 
come  back  too  soon.  He  did  come  back,  at  that 
moment;  but  with  a  ravishing  look  that  turned 
his  brain  she  sent  off  again  for  an  ice  and  a 
glass  of  punch.  Meanwhile  her  alert  ears  had  heard 
Robert  replying  cheerfully  to  Miss  Betty. 

"  Oh,  Carberry  will  be  all  right  in  a  week  or  two," 
said  he.  "  'Twould  much  hasten  his  recovery  were 
one  to  send  him  word  of  Miss  Betty's  solicitude.  A 
three  weeks  at  most  will  take  him  off  my  conscience 
and  the  doctor's  hands !  " 

Here  another  voice  intervened. 

"  Traitress !  "  it  exclaimed,  "  I  have  been  seeking 
you  this  half-hour!  " 

"  Let  me  talk  to  Mr.  Gault  one  moment  more, 
Jack !  "  pleaded  Miss  Betty.  "  He  was  just  going  to 
tell  me  all  about  it,  —  weren't  you,  Mr.  Gault?" 

"  Not  if  I  know  Bob  Gault,"  retorted  the  voice. 
"  Nay,  nay,  dear  lady,  I  will  yield  you  not  one 
minute  more  to  Gault,  on  any  pretext.  Shall  I 
court  disaster  by  leaving  the  most  fickle  as  the  fairest 
of  her  sex  to  the  wiles  of  this  pale  hero,  this  wounded 
champion  of  dames !  " 

"  You're  right,  Jack !  "  cried  Miss  Betty.    "  I  see 


Barbara  Ladd  279 


he's  dying  with  impatience  to  go  and  find  her,  and 
claim  a  champion's  reward !  She's  here,  Mr.  Gault. 
I  saw  her  but  a  moment  back.  Go  wherever  you 
see  the  men  a-crowding  fiercest !  " 

So  Robert  had  fought  for  some  woman,  had  he? 
He  had  a  tie,  then !  Barbara  felt  a  tightening  about! 
her  heart,  an  impulse  to  rush  from  the  room.  Then 
she  said  to  herself,  "  What  more  natural  ?  What 
are  we  but  the  best  of  friends?  And  have  I  ever 
been  really  nice  to  him  ?  "  Promptly  anger  took 
the  place  of  the  unreasonable  hurt;  and  the  anger 
made  her  cool  upon  the  surface,  so  that  she  had 
herself  well  gathered  in  hand  when  the  curtain  was 
pushed  aside,  and  Robert  came  through  —  just  at 
the  same  moment  that  her  partner  came  up  with  the 
punch. 

Robert  sprang  forward  with  face  transfigured. 
But  to  Barbara's  chagrin  he  did  not  seem  at  all 
surprised. 

"  I  am  glad  to  see  you,  Robert !  "  she  said,  gravely, 
holding  out  her  hand. 

Robert  bent  over  it  and  kissed  it  in  silence,  unable, 
for  the  moment,  to  find  his  voice. 

"  Are  you  not  glad  to  see  me  —  to  see  an  old 
friend  out  of  the  old  days?"  asked  Barbara. 

"  I  have  no  words  to  tell  you  how  glad  I  am, 
my  dear  lady !  "  he  answered,  in  a  low  voice,  wish- 
ing that  Jerry  Waite  would  have  sense  enough  to 


280  Barbara  Ladd 


go  away,  instead  of  standing  there  in  that  idiotic 
fashion  with  the  punch. 

"But  aren't  you  surprised  to  see  me,  Robert?" 
Barbara  went  on,  forgetful  of  Mr.  Waite  and  the 
punch. 

"  I  suppose  I  ought  to  be  surprised,  my  lady," 
answered  Robert,  with  some  bitterness  in  his  tone, 
"  surprised  that  you  have  condescended  to  see  me 
at  all,  in  view  of  the  length  of  time  you  have  been 
here  without  letting  me  know !  I  learned  yesterday 
of  your  coming  —  after  every  one  in  town  appar- 
ently knew  of  it !  " 

To  Jerry  Waite  the  scene  was  utterly  incompre- 
hensible. Oblivious  to  all  good  manners,  he  was 
staring  open-mouthed.  Barbara  saw  the  astonish- 
ment in  his  face,  quite  naturally  misunderstood  it, 
and  flushed  angrily.  The  pain  and  wrath  which  she 
had  by  such  an  effort  of  will  crushed  down  in  her 
heart  crept  up  again  stealthily,  and  began  to  mingle 
unrecognised  with  this  superficial   annoyance. 

"  I  had  thought  to  surprise  you,  —  a  harmless 
little  play,  Robert,  to  see  if  you  would  recognise  an 
old,  old  friend  grown  up !  "  she  said,  in  a  cool  voice. 
"  But  since  you  are  so  dissatisfied,  we  had  better  not 
talk  about  it.  You  may  call  and  see  me  some  day 
soon,  if  you  like.  I  am  just  around  the  corner, 
on   State   Street.     Uncle   Bob   will   give  you   the 


Barbara  Ladd  281 


address.     Will  you  take  me  back  to  my  seat,  Mr. 
Waite?     Thank  you  so  much  for  the  punch." 

Robert  could  not  believe  his  ears.  Was  he  dis- 
missed for  the  evening?  The  blood  began  to  beat 
fiercely  in  his  head. 

"  But,  Barbara,"  he  exclaimed,  "  aren't  you  going 
to  give  me  at  least  one  dance?  —  Hold  on,  Waite, 
just  a  minute,  will  you  !  —  You  can't  be  engaged  for 
all  so  early  in  the  evening.  I  came  at  the  very  first, 
in  hopes  of  catching  you  and  getting  several." 

Barbara  paused.  By  this  time  the  thought  of 
that  other  woman,  for  whom  he  had  fought,  —  for 
whom  he  was  wounded,  —  for  whom  he  carried  now 
this  pallor,  —  for  whom  he  had  been  too  impatient 
to  talk  to  Miss  Betty  behind  the  curtain,  —  the 
thought  of  that  other  woman  was  gnawing  at  her 
brain  in  a  way  to  confuse  her  judgment.  She  was 
not  exactly  in  love  with  Robert,  but  she  was  in- 
tensely interested,  and  in  the  course  of  the  years  a 
sense  of  proprietorship  had  grown  up.  The  idea 
of  another  woman,  with  a  prior  claim,  outraged  her 
pride  at  the  same  time  that  it  wrenched  her  heart 
with  a  sense  of  irremediable  loss. 

"  You  are  not  dancing,  I  understand,  Robert,"  she 
said,  looking  coldly  into  his  eyes. 

Robert's  heart  gave  an  exultant  leap.  She  knew 
about  the  duel,  then! 

"  I  had  thought,  my  lady,"  said  he,  softly,  "  that 


282  Barbara  Ladd 

you  might,  under  the  circumstances,  consent  to 
forego  a  dance  or  two,  and  talk  with  me  about  old 
times." 

The  circumstances,  indeed !  Barbara's  eyes  blazed 
in  spite  of  all  her  efforts  at  self-control.  This  was 
insolence.  Yet  she  could  in  no  way  show  she  rec- 
ognised it.    For  a  second  or  two  she  held  her  tongue. 

"  I  hear  you  have  been  greatly  distinguishing 
yourself,  Robert,"  she  answered,  in  a  voice  of  some- 
what artificial  sweetness,  "  and  have  taken  some 
hurt  in  the  affair,  and  really  should  not  be  here  at 
all !  "  She  looked  at  her  tablets  with  hypocritical 
care.  "  You  should  have  found  me  earlier.  I  shall 
not  be  free  to  give  you  a  dance  for  hours  yet,  — 
not  till  quite  near  the  last.  You  will  probably  not 
be  able  to  stay  so  long !  " 

Robert  grew  tenfold  whiter  than  before,  and  his 
mouth  set  itself  like  iron.  She  knew,  —  it  was  clear 
she.  knew,  —  and  yet  she  could  act  in  this  hopelessly 
light,  cruel,  merciless  way.  It  was  inhuman.  Had 
she  no  spark  of  womanly  tenderness?  He  would 
trouble  her  no  more. 

"  No,  I  shall  not  stay,"  he  said,  quietly.  "  Good- 
night, Mistress  Ladd !  Good-night,  Waite !  "  He 
took  her  outstretched  hand  so  lightly  that  she  saw 
rather  than  felt  that  he  had  taken  it;  bowed  over 
it,  so  low  that  he  seemed  to  kiss  it,  yet  did  not 
actually  touch  it  with  his  lips ;   then  nodded  civilly 


Barbara  Ladd  283 


to  Waite,  strode  off  down  the  side  of  the  room, 
through  the  door,  and  was  gone.  Barbara  little 
guessed  the  many  eyes  that  had  watched  and  won- 
dered at  the  episode.  She  imagined  that  all  were 
quite  engrossed  in  the  dancing. 

"  Now  please  take  me  to  the  other  room,  Mr. 
Waite !  "  she  commanded.  "  I  fear  I  was  engaged 
for  this  very  dance,  and  my  partner  will  think  me 
rude!" 

Waite  was  in  hopeless  bewilderment.  He  par- 
ticularly liked  and  admired  Robert  Gault.  He  was 
silent  for  a  few  moments,  and  then  exclaimed  with 
seeming  irrelevance :   "  Women  do  beat  me !  " 

Barbara  looked  up  at  him  quickly,  as  she  took  her 
seat. 

"  What  do  you  mean?  "  she  asked. 

"  T  beg  your  pardon,  most  fair  and  inexplicable 
Mistress  Ladd,"  replied  Waite,  who  had  been  puz- 
zled almost  out  of  his  manners,  "  but,  —  if  you  will 
permit  me  to  say  it,  —  if  this  be  the  fate  of  your 
friends,  what,  oh,  what  must  be  the  fate  of  your 
enemies !  " 

"  I  don't  understand  you !  "  said  Barbara,  haugh- 
tily. "  Pray  explain  yourself !  "  But  just  then  a 
young  scarlet-coated  officer,  Nevil  Paget,  came  up, 
claiming  the  hand  of  Mistress  Ladd;  and  Jerry 
Waite,  who  had  begun  to  realise  that  he  was  in  deep 
water,  hailed  the  rescue  gladly. 


284  Barbara   Ladd 


"  I  shall  have  the  honour  to  claim  you  again, 
gracious  mistress,"  said  he,  "  and  I  shall  explain 
myself  then,  if  you  bid  me.  Meanwhile,  I  make 
way  for  those  more  fortunate  than  I." 

And  now,  in  her  bitterness  and  disappointment, 
Barbara  flung  herself  heart  and  soul  into  the  folly. 
When  the  young  Englishman  started  to  speak  of 
a  duel,  she  shut  him  up  so  mercilessly  that  for  five 
minutes  he  durst  not  open  his  mouth.  But  she  pro- 
ceeded to  flirt  and  bedazzle  him,  half  flouting,  half 
flattering,  till  in  five  minutes  more  he  was  nigh 
ready  to  fling  all  the  pedigree  of  all  the  Pagets  at 
her  small,  light-dancing  feet  and  beg  her  to  dance 
upon  it  her  whole  life  long.  She  danced  everything, 
and  between  the  dances  held  a  court  more  crowded 
and  more  devoted  than  that  which  had  paid  her 
homage  at  the  Van  Griffs'.  She  was  deaf  to  all 
attempts  to  lure  her  out  upon  the  fairy  terraces,  be- 
cause when  she  first  saw  them  she  had  decided  that 
Robert  should  take  her  out  there  to  tell  her  what 
a  wonderful  surprise  she  had  given  him.  But  the 
men  whom  she  refused  were  not  driven  away  by  her 
denial.  She  mixed  bitter  and  sweet  for  them  all  so 
cunningly  that  none  could  tell  in  which  of  the  twain 
lay  the  magic  that  held  them  thrall.  And  all  the 
while  her  heart  smouldered  in  her  breast  like  a  hot 
coal  in  the  ash. 

At  length  came  her  minuet  with  GlenOwen;   and 


Barbara  Ladd  285 


after  it  her  uncle,  who  thought  he  detected  something 
feverish  in  her  gaiety,  and  felt  moved  to  cool  it  a 
little  if  he  might  without  damage,  asked  her  if  she 
had  seen  Robert. 

"  For  a  moment  or  two,"  she  answered,  with 
an  indifference  beyond  reason. 

Glenowen  had  heard  all  the  story  of  the  duel, 
and  wondered  what  had  gone  wrong. 

"  Why  did  he  go  home,  sweetheart,  so  soon  after 
our  coming?"  he  inquired. 

"  Did  he  go  home  ?  "  she  queried,  casually.  "  You 
know  he  was  hardly  fit  to  be  out.  Even  heroes 
can't  stand  the  loss  of  blood !  " 

"What  did  you  do  to  him,  child?"  persisted 
Glenowen. 

This  questioning  chafed  on  Barbara's  raw  and 
bleeding  nerves. 

"  Robert  made  himself  very  disagreeable,"  she 
replied,  crisply.  "  I  showed  that  I  was  disappointed 
in  him,  and  he  seems  to  have  got  angry  and  gone 
home!" 

"  Disappointed  in  him !  "  exclaimed  Glenowen. 
Then  he  hesitated,  and  went  on :  "  Really,  Barbara, 
are  you  quite  human?    Forgive  me  if  I  —  " 

Barbara  faced  him  squarely,  and  he  felt,  though 
he  could  not  see,  the  flood  of  tears  pent  up  behind 
her  shining  eyes. 

"Uncle  Bob!"  she  whispered,  in  a  tense  voice, 


286  Barbara  Ladd 


"if  you  are  going  to  criticise,  take  me  home  right 
away.    I  can't  stand  one  thing  more !  " 

Glenowen  knew  her  better  than  any  one  else  ever 
could,  and  his  displeasure  melted  as  he  caught  signal 
of  a  distress  which  he  did  not  understand.  Yet  he 
knew  better  than  to  be  too  sympathetic,  having  more 
than  once  experienced  the  perilous  relaxing  powers 
of  sympathy. 

"  Well,  well,  sweetheart,"  he  laughed,  lightly, 
"  forgive  me.  I've  no  doubt  it  would  seem  all  right 
if  I  knew.  And  what  does  it  matter  to  me  about 
Bobby  Gault,  anyhow,  so  long  as  my  little  girl  is 
happy  ?  " 

"She  isn't  happy,  Uncle  Bob!  But  that  isn't 
your  fault,  you  dear,  not  ever  in  the  world !  " 

As  they  moved  apart  from  the  promenading 
throng,  and  paused  at  an  open  window  overlooking 
the  terraces,  Barbara's  ears,  acute  as  those  of  the 
furtive  kindred  in  Westings  forest,  again  caught  a 
word  that  was  not  intended  for  them.  She  saw 
two  painted  and  tower-headed  dames,  sitting  not  far 
from  the  window,  point  her  out  to  another  who 
had  just  taken  a  seat  beside  them;  and  she  heard 
the  newcomer  remark,  behind  her  fan : 

"  That  ugly  little  rebel !  Insult  an  officer  of  the 
king's  troops  for  her !  " 

Barbara's  face  flushed  scarlet,  and  she  looked  at 
her  uncle.     But  he  had  heard  nothing,  —  and  she 


Barbara  Ladd  287 


remembered  that  her  ears  were  keener  than  those 
of  other  people.  The  remark,  however,  puzzled  her, 
and  started  a  vague,  troublesome  misgiving.  There- 
after she  found  it  difficult  to  resume  the  spontaneous 
fervour  of  her  gaiety.  Fits  of  abstraction  would 
take  her  unawares;  but  her  courtiers  thought  them 
merely  another  touch  of  art,  effective  as  they  were 
unexpected.  She  was  now  looking  forward  to  the 
dance  with  Jerry  Waite,  and  the  explanation  which 
he  had  so  rashly  promised.  She  had  intended  to 
snub  him  severely,  but  when  he  came  for  her  at 
last  he  found  her  altogether  gracious. 

"  Would  you  mind  very  much  if  we  sat  some- 
where and  talked,  instead  of  dancing?"  she  asked. 
And  Waite,  nothing  loth,  led  her  to  a  seat  just 
beyond  the  long  windows,  —  nearer  to  the  terrace 
than  any  other  man  had  succeeded  in  getting  her  to 
go.  This  filled  him  with  elation,  and  he  was  glad, 
rather  than  otherwise,  that  she  had  refused  to  go 
out  among  the  walks  and  arbours.  Here  his  tri- 
umph was  visible  every  moment  to  his  disappointed 
rivals.  He  was,  of  course,  like  the  rest,  half  infatu- 
ated with  Barbara ;  but  being  a  sane  youth,  with  a 
sense  of  humour,  he  knew  the  difference  between 
infatuation  and  half  infatuation.  He  imagined  there 
was  more  between  Barbara  and  Robert  than  there 
really  was;  and  he  did  not  hold  himself  any  match 
for  Robert  in  a  race  for  hearts.    Therefore,  he  was 


288  Barbara  Ladd 


capable  of  thinking-  of  his  own  prestige.  And  to 
heighten  that  he  had  an  inspiration.  When,  after 
waiting  till  she  could  wait  no  longer,  for  him  to 
bring  up  the  subject,  Barbara  asked  him  to  give  her 
the  promised  explanation  of  his  remark,  he  fenced 
cleverly  till  the  time  was  close  at  hand  when  he  knew 
she  would  be  claimed  by  another  partner.  He  saw 
this  prospective  partner,  Cary  Patten,  eyeing  her 
hungrily,  ready  to  swoop  down  and  take  possession 
at  the  first  permissible  moment.  Then  he  said  :  "  In 
very  truth,  fair  mistress,  the  explanation  necessitates 
a  long  story.  To  tell  you  a  little  would  leave  me 
in  a  worse  light  than  I  could  endure  you  to  behold 
me  in.  The  story  comes  first,  —  and  then  the 
explanation  follows  with  ease!  " 

"  When  will  you  explain?  My  curiosity  has  been 
most  artistically  aroused !  "  said  Barbara,  maintain- 
ing with  an  effort  her  tone  of  sprightly  merriment. 

"  If  I  might  have  the  honour  of  waiting  upon  you 
to-morrow,  I  am  bold  to  hope  I  might  succeed  in 
interesting  you !  "  suggested  Waite. 

"  You  may  come  in  the  morning,"  answered  Bar- 
bara, promptly.     "  Say  about  eleven  o'clock." 

The  delighted  Jerry  wTas  ceremoniously  bowing 
his  gratitude  for  this  command,  conscious  that  it 
would  make  him  the  envied  of  all  the  gallants  of 
Manhattan,  when  Cary  Patten  came  up  and  carried 
Barbara  off  with  rather  more  eagerness  than  cere- 


Barbara  Ladd  289 


mony.  He  had  been  most  hard  hit  of  all  her  victims 
at  the  Van  Griffs'  ball,  and  had  experienced  deep 
dejection  over  the  rumour  which  had  that  day  asso- 
ciated her  name  with  Robert  Gault's.  Robert's 
early  departure  from  the  ball  had  somewhat  cheered 
him,  however;  and  now,  with  that  simplicity,  not 
unlike  Barbara's  own,  born  of  secure  family  position 
and  careless  disr»egard  of  convention,  he  determined 
to  find  out  if  the  field  were  open.  He  saw  that 
Barbara  was  distinctly  friendly  to  him,  —  whether 
for  his  own  sake  or  for  what  Glenowen  had  told  her 
of  his  sympathies,  —  and  he  trusted  to  his  directness 
to  disarm  her  possible  resentment  of  his  questioning. 

"  If  you  will  pardon  me,  gracious  lady,"  he  began, 
after  the  customary  interchange  of  compliment,  "  I 
am  going  to  ask  you  something  about  our  friend 
Gault.  Carberry  was  accounted  till  to-day  the  best 
sword  in  the  colony.  Now  he  stands  second  best! 
It  took  uncommon  high  courage  or  uncommon  deep 
interest  in  the  quarrel,  to  cross  swords  with  such  a 
master,  —  but,  of  course  —  " 

Barbara's  face  changed,  and  she  interrupted  him 
crisply.  His  first  phrases  had  been  interesting 
enough,  but  at  the  words  "  uncommon  deep  interest 
in  the  quarrel,"  the  vision  of  that  unknown  woman 
floated  up  and  laughed  in  her  face. 

"lam  weary  of  the  subject,  Captain  Patten.     It 


290  Barbara  Ladd 


seems  to  me  it  should  be  possible  to  talk  of  something 
else.     If  not,  let  us  listen  to  the  music,  please!" 

Never  before  had  Cary  Patten  been  so  snubbed. 
The  experience  was  novel  to  him,  and  he  did  not 
like  it.  But  he  found  more  than  ample  compensation 
in  the  thought  that  Barbara's  words  showed  no 
impassioned  interest  in  Robert  Gault!  If  such  a 
fight,  and  in  such  a  cause,  left  her  indifferent,  then 
surely  he  need  have  no  great  fear  of  Robert  as  a 
rival.  To  be  sure,  he  thought  Barbara's  indifference 
a  little  cruel,  a  little  heartless,  —  but  so  much  the 
greater  the  reward  if  he  could  awaken  heart  in  this 
flashing,  audacious,  irresistible  little  witch.  Cary 
Patten  had  small  knowledge  of  the  feminine  heart, 
being  much  absorbed  in  his  boyish  ambitions,  his 
dreams  of  splendid  daring;  and  he  had  a  healthy, 
well-founded  faith  in  his  own  powers.  His  bright, 
handsome  face  looked  glum  for  a  moment  or  two; 
then  he  laughed  frankly  and  cried : 

"  Served  me  just  right,  for  being  so  bold,  sweet 
mistress.  I  implore  you  forgive  me,  and  be  friends ! 
On  bended  knee  I  sue  —  to  speak  figuratively.  I 
dare  not  do  it  in  fact,  you  know,  else  all  the  men 
in  the  room  would  be  on  their  knees  about  you, 
which  would  look  singular !  " 

Yes,  he  was  a  nice  boy,  and  Barbara  not  only  for- 
gave him,  but  tried  to  resume  her  old  gaiety  for 
his  pleasure-    So  far  as  his  pleasure  was  concerned, 


Barbara  Ladd  291 


she  succeeded;  though  older  and  keener  eyes  than 
Cary  Patten's  would  have  seen  that  her  mirth  was 
forced.  He  left  her  feeling  that  he  had  made  no 
small  progress;  and  he  trod  on  air  in  his  elation 
because  she  had  promised  him  no  less  than  three 
dances  at  the  very  next  ball  at  which  they  should 
meet.  His  succeeding  partners  found  him  tender 
but  absent-minded,  —  a  combination  which  they  in- 
terpreted to  their  advantage  or  otherwise,  according 
to  their  knowledge  of  men's  hearts. 

But  as  for  Barbara's  heart,  it  was  now  yielding 
to  the  strain,  and  she  felt  that  she  could  keep  up 
the  play  no  longer.  Her  anger  had  given  out  before 
the  need  of  it,  as  a  stimulant  to  flirtation,  was  past. 
Only  pain,  humiliation,  disappointment,  remained  to 
her,  and  she  felt  that  if  she  did  not  get  away  at 
once  something  would  happen.  With  all  the  obsti- 
nate force  of  her  will  she  kept  a  hold  upon  her 
imperious  vivacity,  and  would  hear  no  appeals  when 
her  next  partner  was  bidden  to  fetch  her  uncle  and 
call  her  coach. 

"  Take  me  home,  please,  Uncle  Bob ! "  she 
pleaded ;  and  he,  after  a  glance  into  her  eyes,  yielded 
comprehendingly.  Her  reason  for  going,  indeed,  he 
did  not  comprehend ;  but  her  need  of  going  he  com- 
prehended instantly.  Till  the  very  last  moment 
she  kept  herself  at  pitch,  laughing,  sweetly  jibing, 
taunting,  provoking,  inviting,  so  that  the  men  who 


292  Barbara  Ladd 

insisted  on  helping  Glenowen  escort  her  to  her  coach 
felt  that  the  glitter  had  gone  from  the  dance  with  her 
departure.  But  once  safe  inside  the  coach,  and 
beyond  the  lights,  she  flung  herself  upon  Uncle  Bob's 
neck  and  broke  into  a  storm  of  sobbing.  She  vouch- 
safed no  explanation,  and  the  sagacious  Glenowen 
asked  no  questions;  and  she  wept,  intermittently, 
all  the  way  to  the  high-stooped  old  Dutch  house  on 
State  Street.  To  such  a  bitter  end  had  come  the 
evening,  the  wondrous  evening,  of  which  she  had 
hoped,  expected,  claimed  so  much  I 


CHAPTER   XXVI. 

Barbara  slept  little,  but  lay  late,  and  Glenowen 
was  away  about  business  ere  she  appeared. 
By  the  time  her  caller  arrived  she  was  fairly  herself, 
only  subdued  in  spirit,  sorrowful,  and  homesick. 
She  had  taken  pains,  however,  that  her  morning 
toilet  should  be  becoming-;  and  Jerry  Waite  thought 
her  pallor,  the  shadows  about  her  great  grave  eyes, 
the  wistfulness  of  her  scarlet  mouth,  even  more 
enchanting  than  her  radiance  and  sparkle  of  the 
night  before. 

"  This  is  most  gracious  of  you,  fair  lady,  to  let 
me  come  so  soon !  "  he  murmured  ecstatically,  over 
the  rosy  brown  tips  of  her  slim  fingers.  "  Did  the 
other  men  but  know  of  it,  I  should  have  feared  for 
my  life  to  come  without  a  guard !  " 

Barbara  smiled  faintly,  willing  to  appreciate  his 
flatteries,  but  in  no  mood  for  badinage  and  quip. 

"  Nay,  sir!  "  she  answered,  "  do  not  lay  it  to  my 
graciousness,  which  is  scant  to  even  so  charming  a 
gentleman  as  Mr.  Waite,  but  to  my  curiosity,  which 

293 


294 


Barbara  Ladd 


I  acknowledge  to  be  great  and  insistent.  Tell  me 
this  wonderful  thing  you  promised  to  tell  me!  " 

Jerry  Waite  assumed  an  air  of  mock  supplication. 

"  I  implore  you,  dear  lady,  suffer  me  for  one  mo- 
ment to  delude  myself  with  the  ravishing  dream  that 
'twas  for  my  company,  no  less  than  for  my  story, 
that  you  permitted  me  to  come.  —  What,  no,  not 
for  one  moment  the  sweet  delusion  ?  " 

Barbara  shook  her  head  resolutely. 

"  No,  first  deserve  favour,  before  you  presume 
to  claim  it,  sir !  "  she  retorted.  "  Earn  my  grace  by 
a  story  as  interesting  as  you  have  led  me  to  expect. 
Then,  perhaps,  I  may  like  you  well  enough  to  let 
you  stay  awhile,  for  the  sake  of  your  company !  " 

"  So  be  it,  if  so  the  queen  decrees !  "  said  Waite. 
"  My  little  story  is  about  a  duel,  of  which,  as  I 
gathered  last  night,  the  fairest  but  —  pardon  me  — 
not  always  the  most  gracious  of  her  sex  knows  a 
little,  but  not  the  most  interesting  details!  " 

"  I  have  heard  too  much  already  of  this  duel !  " 
interrupted  Barbara.    "  I  do  not  understand  how  it 


concerns  me 


"  Oh,  lady,  this  impatience  of  yours !  "  said  Waite, 
watching  her  keenly.  "  How  can  you  expect  to 
understand  the  manner  in  which  it  concerns  you, 
if  you  will  not  let  any  one  tell  you  the  story? 
I  stand  pledged  to  make  the  story  interesting  on 
pain  of  forfeiting  your  good  will!  " 


Barbara  Ladd  295 


"  Well,"  agreed  Barbara,  with  seeming  reluctance. 
In  very  truth  she  was  trembling  with  eagerness  for 
him  to  go  on.  "  But,  I  pray  you,  be  as  brief  as  is 
consistent  with  justice  to  your  claim  as  a  narrator !  " 

"  I  will  be  most  brief!  "  said  Waite.  "  For  the 
merit  lies  in  the  story  itself,  not  in  the  fashion  of 
the  telling.  Yesterday,  a  little  after  the  noon  hour, 
some  half-score  gentlemen  were  gathered  by  chance 
in  Pym's  Ordinary,  where  many  of  us  frequent  for 
the  latest  bit  of  gossip.  There  was  talk  of  this,  that, 
and  the  other,  but  most  of  the  charms  of  a  lady 
whom  we  know  and  reverence  —  " 

"  Who  was  she?  "  asked  Barbara. 

But  Waite,  intent  upon  his  story,  paid  no  heed. 

"  The  praises,  the  compliments,  the  eulogiums," 
he  went  on,  "  that  were  heaped  upon  this  magical 
name  seemed  to  show  that  every  man  was  at  her 
feet.  All  but  Carberry.  Captain  Carberry  is  a  chill- 
souled,  carping,  sarcastical  fellow,  and  arrogant 
withal,  by  reason  of  the  unmatched  agility  of  his 
blade.  It  had  pleased  him  to  be  displeased  by  certain 
sweet,  if  a  trifle  pungent,  sprightlinesses  of  the  lady 
in  question;  and  now  his  comments  ran  sharply 
counter  to  those  of  the  rest  of  the  company.  He- 
did  not  admire  her  at  all,  —  which  was,  of  course, 
within  his  undoubted  rights,  however  it  discredited 
his  taste.  But  presently  his  criticisms  became  a 
trifle  harsher  than  was  fitting;    and  there  was  a 


296  Barbara  Ladd 


moment  of  uneasy  silence.  Then,  clear  upon  the 
silence,  Gault  spoke,  —  Gault,  who  had  hitherto  been 
listening  without  a  word. 

"  '  Carberry,'  said  he,  quietly,  '  you  have  said 
just  enough.    One  word  more  will  be  too  much ! ' 

"  Every  one  held  his  breath.  There  was  an  ugly 
look  about  Gault's  mouth,  and  we  trembled  for  him. 
He  is  liked,  you  know;  while  Carberry,  a  man  ten 
years  older,  is  feared.  Carberry  looked  Bob  over, 
with  a  supercilious  smile,  which  meant  mischief,  as 
we  knew,  and  then  drawled  slowly : 

"  '  I  shall  say  whatever  it  may  please  me  to  say 
about  that  damned  little  — '  But  no  one  was  to 
hear  the  sentence  finished.  We  can  never  have  our 
curiosity  certainly  satisfied  as  to  that  word,  which 
just  then  got  smashed  beyond  recognition  behind 
Carberry's  teeth.  It  was  probably  not  so  very  bad 
a  word,  if  the  truth  were  known.  Bob  was  taking 
no  risks  on  that  score.  His  blow  was  straight 
as  a  bullet ;  and  Carberry  went  sprawling  over  two 
chairs  and  a  table. 

"  When  he  picked  himself  up  he  was  quite  cool, 
—  collected  and  businesslike.  That  we  knew  to  be 
his  deadly  way,  and  we  trembled  for  Bob.  Bob, 
however,  seemed  as  easy  in  his  mind  as  Carberry. 
The  two  of  them,  indeed,  were  so  deuced  civil  you 
might  have  thought  they  were  arranging  to  marry 
each  other's  sisters.     There  was  no  time  lost,  you 


Barbara  Ladd  297 


may  be  sure.  Seconds  were  chosen,  terms  agreed 
upon,  a  doctor  sent  for,  and  we  promptly  made  up 
a  little  pleasure  party  to  the  woods. 

"  As  for  the  fight,  dear  lady,  I  spare  your  gentle 
soul  the  details.  It  lacked  just  one  element  of  inter- 
est to  the  connoisseur,  —  both  combatants  fought  in 
one  fashion.  There  was  no  contrast,  such  as  one 
might  have  expected  between  a  boy  of  twenty-three 
and  a  veteran  of  thirty-six.  At  the  very  first  Car- 
berry  had  attacked  with  fury,  —  but  when  he  felt 
the  quality  of  Bob's  wrist  he  saw  it  was  not  a  case 
for  bluster,  and  settled  down  to  business.  Both 
fought  smiling,  alike  cool,  wary,  dangerous,  sure 
of  the  result.  Where  and  when  Bob  learned  it,  we 
none  of  us  knew.  He  is  a  queer,  reticent  chap  in 
some  ways.  But  learned  it  he  had,  —  and  I,  who 
like  to  study  faces,  saw  the  tinge  of  surprise  in  Car- 
berry's  face  pass  to  admiration.  His  rage  was  for- 
gotten in  the  exhilaration  of  his  favourite  game.  I 
never  again  expect  to  see  two  blades  so  nicely 
matched.  The  excitement  to  us  watchers  grew  in- 
tense, till  our  knees  felt  weak.  But  they  two  seemed 
as  fresh  as  when  they  started. 

"  At  last  —  '  a  touch ! '  said  Carberry,  —  and  then, 
by  the  slight  hissing  of  the  words  between  his  teeth 
I  realised  the  strain. 

"  *  Not  at  all ! '  answered  Robert,  —  and  his 
words,  too,  came  hissingly,  for  all  the  easy  smile 


298  Barbara  Ladd 


upon  his  lips.  Then  both  grew  white.  And  for 
a  few  minutes  there  was  no  change.  And  it  seemed 
to  us  that  our  eyes  could  follow  the  blades  no  longer. 
And  then  —  for  the  life  of  me  I  could  not  see  how 
it  happened  —  a  red  stain  came  on  the  shoulder  of 
Bob's  shirt;  and  in  the  next  second  Carberry,  letting 
liis  sword  fall,  dropped  in  a  heap. 

"  Before  we  could  recover  our  astonishment, 
Robert  and  the  doctor  together  were  bending  over 
the  wounded  man,  and  had  his  shirt  ripped  open. 
'I've  got  it,  eh?'  said  Carberry,  faintly.  'A  fair, 
clean  thrust,  an'  served  me  damn  well  right! '  And 
he  held  out  his  hand  to  Bob,  —  who  grasped  it  with 
both  his,  and  looked  now,  all  of  a  sudden,  like  a 
boy  ready  to  cry. 

"  '  Stuff  and  nonsense,  Captain ! '  exclaimed  the 
doctor.  '  You've  not  got  your  quietus  with  this  bare 
bodkin.  You'll  be  all  right,  sound  as  ever,  in  a 
month,  a  fortnight  maybe ! ' 

"'Thank  God!'  cried  Robert. 

"  l  My  sentiments  exactly ! '  said  Carberry,  his 
voice  stronger  with  the  knowledge  that  he  was  not 
dying.  '  Gault,  my  compliments,  with  my  best 
apologies !  Great  sword,  my  boy,  great  —  '  and  with 
that  he  swooned  from  the  pain  and  loss  of  blood. 
And  we,  very  happy  that  all  had  ended  so  happily, 
got  him  to  the  coach,  and  so  home.  And  the  rest, 
dear  Mistress  Ladd,  you  know ! " 


Barbara  Ladd  299 


"A  mighty  interesting  story,  I  admit!"  said 
Earbara.  "  But  still  I  ask,  of  what  especial,  immedi- 
ate interest  to  me?  " 

Waite  looked  at  her  curiously.  Was  it  possible 
she  could  be  so  blind?  But  her  wide  eyes  were 
innocent  of  all  comprehension.  It  suddenly  occurred 
to  him  that,  new  come  to  town  as  she  was,  she  found 
it  impossible  to  imagine  her  name  the  theme  of 
tongues.     He  began  to  understand. 

"  You  know  the  lady,"  said  he,  and  paused. 

"  Well,  sir,  'tis  possible.  I  have  met  many  in 
the  few  days  that  I  have  been  in  New  York,  What 
is  her  name  —  since  you  seem  to  hold  it  an  important 
matter." 

"  Her  name,  dear  lady  —  her  name  is  one  that 
stirs  a  thrill  of  admiring  homage  in  all  our  hearts. 
It  is  —  Mistress  Barbara  Ladd!" 

Barbara  caught  her  breath,  and  her  eyes  dilated. 

"  What?  "  she  cried,  though  she  had  heard  quite 
clearly. 

"  Her  name  is  Mistress  Barbara  Ladd !  "  repeated 
Jerry  Waite. 

"Oh,  Mr.  Waite.  No!  No!  Don't  tell  me  it 
was  on  my  account  that  Robert  fought.  Impossible ! 
He  might  have  been  killed !  And  I  thought  —  "  but 
she  stopped  herself  in  time,  without  saying  what  it 
was  she  had  thought. 

Jerry  Waite  became  serious. 


300  Barbara  Ladd 


"  It  seems  to  me,  dear  lady,  that  your  thought, 
whatever  it  was,  did  Gault  an  injustice,"  said  he, 
gently.  "  And  that  is  my  explanation.  Am  I  for- 
given? " 

Barbara  conquered  her  distress.  This  was  the 
easier  —  after  the  first  pang  of  remorse  —  because 
the  fact  that  Robert  had  not  failed  her  soon  over- 
topped in  her  mind  the  fact  that  she  had  failed 
Robert.  That  unknown  woman  —  the  hateful 
vision  vanished  in  a  burst  of  light.  The  ache  of  loss 
was  healed  in  her  heart.  She  was  reinstated,  too, 
in  her  self-esteem.  New  York  grew  bright  again. 
Her  conquests  were  once  more  worth  while.  Robert 
should  behold  them  all,  —  and  be  one  of  them,  — 
the  most  subjugated  of  them  all.  At  last  her  face 
grew  radiant,  —  her  eyes  dancing,  her  teeth  flashing, 
her  mouth  the  reddest  rose,  her  clear  brown  cheeks 
softly  aflush. 

"  Yes,  indeed,  Mr.  Waite,"  she  cried,  holding  out 
her  hand.  "  It  is  a  beautiful  story,  and  wins  you 
a  very  high  place  in  my  regard.  You  may  stay 
and  talk  to  me  till  dinner-time,  if  you  like;  and  then 
my  uncle  will  be  glad  to  have  you  dine  with  us !  " 

The  first  part  of  the  invitation  Waite  accepted 
with  alacrity,  and  cursed  himself  bitterly  that  he 
had  an  engagement  to  prevent  him  staying  for 
dinner.  In  the  conversation  that  followed  Barbara 
gained  him  and  chained  him  fast,  not  as  a  mad, 


Barbara  Ladd  301 


intoxicated  lover,  but  as  one  of  the  best  and  most 
loyal  of  her  friends.  But  the  moment  he  was  gone 
she  rushed  to  her  scrutoir  and  in  fierce  haste  scrib- 
bled a  note.    It  ran: 

"  Dear  Robert  :  —  I  did  not  understand  at  all.  I 
thought  something  quite  different  from  the  truth. 
I  have  just  found  out  about  things.  Please  come 
and  talk  to  me  till  dinner-time,  if  you  like ;  and  then 
let  me  tell  you  how  perfectly  horrid  I  think  myself. 

"  Barbara." 

This  she  sealed  with  a  care  that  contrasted  curi- 
ously with  the  haste  with  which  she  had  written  it. 
Then  she  called  her  maid  and  sent  it  around  to  the 
stately-doorwayed  office  on  Bowling  Green. 

The  answer  that  came  was  merely  a  bunch  of  dark 
red  roses,  with  never  a  written  word;  but  Barbara 
found  it  quite  satisfactory.  To  Robert  it  would  have 
seemed  superfluous  to  have  said  he  would  come. 
Barbara  made  her  toilet  with  especial  care,  selecting 
everything  with  a  view  to  making  herself  look  as 
nearly  as  possible  like  the  Barbara  of  the  old  Second 
Westings  days.  As  she  surveyed  herself  in  the  glass, 
she  was  astonished  at  the  result.  Had  she  really 
put  the  hands  of  time  back  five  years?  As  she 
remembered,  she  had  looked  just  so  on  the  afternoon 
when  Robert  came,  and  found  her  in  the  apple-tree 


302  Barbara  Ladd 


reading  "  Clarissa."  It  was  three  o'clock  already,  — 
and  Robert  had  been  waiting  already  half  an  hour 
in  the  drawing-room  below,  —  but  she  took  yet  a 
few  minutes  more  for  a  finishing  touch.  She  basted 
up  a  deep  tuck  in  her  petticoat,  —  about  half  an  inch 
off  for  each  year  blotted  from  her  calendar,  —  and 
then,  with  flaming  eyes  and  mouth  wreathed  in 
laughter,  she  ran  down  to  receive  her  guest.  It  was 
the  direct  obverse  of  the  meeting  she  had  planned. 

"Did  you  ride  over,  Robert?  Or  did  you  come 
in  the  canoe?"  she  asked,  as  if  she  had  but  that 
moment  jumped  down  out  of  the  apple-tree. 

"  Barbara !  "  he  cried,  and  seized  and  kissed  both 
hands. 

"  I  was  beginning  to  fear  that  you  had  forgotten 
the  way  to  Second  Westings!  "  she  went  on,  in  gay 
reproach.  "  Why,  it  is  zceeks  since  you  were  over ; 
and  the  young  catbirds  in  the  currant  bush  have 
grown  their  wings  and  flown;  and  the  goldenrod's 
in  flower ;  and  the  '  Early  Harvests  '  are  beginning 
to  turn  red  on  the  old  apple-tree  over  by  the  gate; 
and  how  will  you  explain  your  long  absence,  sir,  to 
Aunt  Hitty,  and  Doctor  John,  and  Doctor  Jim,  I'd 
like  to  know !  " 

Robert  was  devouring  her  with  his  eyes  as  she 
spoke.  "  Oh,  you  do  indeed  look  just  as  you  did 
that  day  I  found  you  in  the  apple-tree ! "  he  cried, 


Barbara  Ladd  303 


at  last.  "  So  weary  long  ago,  —  yet  now,  sweet 
lady,  it  seems  but  nowi!  " 

"  Let  us  play  it  is  but  now,"  laughed  Barbara. 

"  Yes,"  said  Robert,  —  "  but  please  don't  send  me 
right  away  to  Doctor  Jim,  as  you  did  that  morning ! 
I  will  try  not  to  incur  your  displeasure.  And  don't 
be  in  such  a  hurry  to  get  back  to  *  Clarissa '  as  you 
were  then !  " 

So  all  the  afternoon  they  talked  the  language  and 
the  themes  of  Second  Westings,  with  the  difference 
that  Barbara  was  all  graciousness,  instead  of  her 
old  mixture  of  acid  and  sweet.  And  when  Glen- 
owen  came  in  to  supper  he  was  admitted  to  the  game, 
and  played  it  with  a  relish.  And  when,  after  supper, 
the  three  went  riding,  they  took  what  they  swore 
to  be  the  Westings  Landing  Road,  —  though  cer- 
tain of  the  landmarks,  as  they  could  not  but  agree, 
looked  unfamiliar.  Almost  they  persuaded  them- 
selves that  on  their  return  they  might  entreat  Mis- 
tress Mehitable  to  brew  them  a  sack  posset. 

It  was  not  till  three  days  later,  when  Robert  was 
begging"  more  than  his  share  of  dances  for  a  ball 
to  be  given  that  night  at  Government  House,  that 
Barbara  explained  —  lightly  and  laughingly,  but 
in  a  way  that  suffered  Robert  to  understand  —  her 
quite  inadequate  reasons  for  having  treated  him  so 
cavalierly  on  the  evening  after  his  duel. 


CHAPTER   XXVII. 

For  the  next  few  weeks  Barbara  enjoyed  herself 
without  stint,  and  found  New  York  quite  all  that 
she  had  painted  it.  To  Robert  she  now  vouchsafed 
sufficient  favour  to  keep  him  fairly  happy  and  good 
company,  —  or,  at  least,  to  enable  him  to  make 
himself  good  company  by  an  effort  of  will.  Yet  she 
held  him  on  the  chilly  side  of  that  frontier  which 
separates  the  lover  from  the  comrade.  He  was  her 
favoured  escort,  but  not  so  favoured  that  other  ad- 
mirers could  fancy  themselves  warned  from  the 
field.  And  he  was  kept  restless,  tormented,  jealous. 
He  was  made  to  feel  —  as  others  were  allowed  to 
think  —  that  his  primacy  in  privilege  was  based 
solely  upon  old  friendship  and  familiar  memories. 
But  the  moment  he  attempted  to  crowd  aside  the 
new  friends,  —  among  whom  Cary  Patten,  Jerry 
Waite,  and  young  Paget  caused  him  especial  worry, 
—  Barbara  would  seem  to  forget  all  their  intimacy 
and  relegate  him  to  a  position  somewhat  more  remote 
than  that  of  the  merest  acquaintance.  The  utmost 
that  he  durst  claim  at  any  time  was  a  certain  slight 

*>4 


Barbara  Ladd  305 


precedence  in  her  train  of  devoted  cavaliers.  She 
danced,  rode,  flirted,  with  something-  so  near  ap- 
proaching- impartiality  that  she  let  no  moth  quite 
feel  itself  a  fool  in  scorching  its  wings  at  her  eyes. 
Yet  no  one  could  presume  upon  her  graciousness ; 
and  no  one  but  Cary  Patten  had  the  temerity  to  push 
his  suit  to  the  point  where  she  was  put  on  the  defen- 
sive. Cary  Patten  was  promptly  dismissed.  But 
when  he  as  promptly  came  back  on  the  very  first 
occasion,  she  had  forgotten  the  matter,  and  remem- 
bered only  how  she  liked  his  honest  boyishness,  his 
sanguine  boldness.  Cary,  applying  one  of  those 
general  rules  which  were  apt  to  be  so  inapplicable 
in  the  special  case  of  Barbara,  decided  that  not  one, 
nor  indeed  a  dozen,  refusals  need  reduce  him  to 
despair!  And  Barbara,  when  afterward  she  came 
to  think  of  it,  liked  Cary  Patten  the  better  because 
he  had  not  sulked  over  his  defeat. 

Meanwhile  Barbara  was  exercising  a  restraint 
upon  one  point,  which  was  in  flat  contradiction  to 
her  wonted  directness.  She  was  carefully  avoiding, 
in  Robert's  presence,  a  discussion  of  those  political 
questions  with  which  the  whole  country,  from  Maine 
to  Georgia,  was  then  seething.  This  was  easier 
than  it  would  have  been  even  a  few  weeks  before,  for 
the  reason  that  as  the  differences  grew  more  deadly 
society  grew  more  cautious  about  letting  them  in- 
trude  themselves   among  jts    smooth   observances. 


306  Barbara  Ladd 


Barbara,  in  fact,  had  come  to  fear  the  inevitable  dis- 
cussion with  Robert.  She  knew  he  was  identified 
with  the  Tory  party,  but  she  did  not  know  how  far. 
And  she  feared  her  own  heat  of  partisanship  not  less 
than  his  resolution  —  which  she  called  obstinacy. 
So,  by  tacit  consent,  she  and  Robert  gave  wide  berth 
to  the  perilous  theme ;  till  at  length  their  avoidance 
of  it,  when  it  was  thrilling  on  the  very  air  they 
breathed,  made  it  begin  to  loom  all  the  larger  and 
darker  between  them.  Presently  the  apprehension 
that  it  was  an  impending  peril  to  their  relation  drove 
Robert  to  speak,  precipitately,  on  the  subject  that 
was  bursting  his  heart  night  and  day. 

They  had  just  come  in  from  an  afternoon  ride, 
and  were  alone  in  the  drawing-room.  Barbara  was 
in  high  good  humour ;  and  Robert  seized  the  mo- 
ment to  ask  leave  to  return  that  same  evening. 

"  I'm  sorry,  Robert!  I'd  love  to  have  you  come," 
she  replied.  "  But  I've  promised  the  evening  to 
Cary  Patten.  He  wants  to  bring  his  fiddle  and  try 
over  some  new  music  with  me." 

Robert's  face  darkened. 

"  Cary  Patten  seems  to  be  here  all  the  time ! "  he 
exclaimed,  with  natural  exaggeration. 

"  What  nonsense !  You  know  that's  not  true, 
Robert.  He's  not  here  half  as  much  as  you  are. 
But  if  he  were,  what  of  it  ?    He's  very  good-looking, 


Barbara  Ladd  30' 


and  Uncle  Bob  and  I  both  like  him,  and,  indeed,  he's 
much  more  entertaining  than  you,  Robert!  " 

Robert  walked  quickly  across  the  room  and  back, 
then  seized  both  her  slim  brown  wrists  in  a  grip 
whose  severity  she  rather  liked.  She  felt  that  some- 
thing disturbing  was  at  hand,  however,  and  she 
braced  her  wits  to  manage  it. 

"  Barbara,  —  my  lady,  —  my  lady,  —  I  love 
you!"  he  said,  very  quietly. 

"  Of  course,  Robert !  I  know  that,"  she  answered, 
with  composure,  smiling  up  at  him,  and  making 
no  effort  to  free  her  wrists.  Yet  in  some  way  her 
smile  checked  him,  as  he  was  about  to  crush  her  in 
his  arms.  His  breast  ached  fiercely  so  to  crush  her, 
yet  it  was  impossible. 

"  With  all  my  heart  and  soul,  my  lady,"  he  went 
on,  his  voice  on  the  dead  level  of  intense  emotion, 
"  with  every  drop  of  blood  in  my  body,  I  love  you, 
I  have  loved  you,  ever  since  the  old  child  days  in 
Second  Westings !  " 

"  That  is  very  dear  of  you,  Robert,"  she  re- 
sponded, her  voice  and  eyes  showing  nothing  but 
frank  pleasure  at  his  words.  "  But,  of  course,  I 
have  always  known  that,"  which  was  not  quite  true, 
though  it  seemed  true  to  her  at  the  moment. 

He  could  not  tell  what  there  was  in  this  answer 
to  hold  him  back,  or  if  it  was  the  frankness  of  her 
eyes  that  daunted  him,  but  he  began  to  feel  that, 


308  Barbara  Ladd 


so  far  from  clasping  her  to  his  heart  and  satisfying 
his  lips  upon  her  eyes,  her  hair,  her  mouth,  he  had 
no  right  even  to  be  holding  her  wrists  as  he  was. 
He  flung  them  from  him,  drew  back  a  step,  and 
searched  her  face  with  a  desperate  look. 

"  And  you  —  you  do  not  love  me  at  all !  " 

Barbara  looked  thoughtful,  regretful. 

"  No,  Robert,  I  don't  love  you  —  not  in  the  way 
you  mean.  I'm  not  in  love  with  you,  you  know. 
But  I  do  care  a  lot  for  you,  more  than  for  almost 
any  one  else !  " 

They  had  both  forgotten  —  for  it  was  weeks  away 
—  how  Barbara  had  felt  about  the  imaginary  un- 
known lady. 

That  "  almost "  was,  to  Robert,  the  end  of  all 
things.  He  thought  at  once  of  Cary  Patten.  Pain 
and  jealous  madness  struggled  together  in  his  breast, 
strangling  him. 

"  Good-bye !  "  he  said  at  last,  finding  his  voice, 
and  turning  to  the  door.     "  I  shall  leave  to-night !  " 

"  Robert !  "  cried  Barbara,  sharply.  "  Come  back 
at  once !  " 

He  paused  near  the  door,  half  turned,  as  if  com- 
pelled by  mere  civility,  but  showed  no  sign  of 
obeying. 

"  Come  back  to  me!  "  she  commanded.  And  he, 
being  a  courteous  gentleman,  obeyed. 

"What  is  it,  lady?" 


Barbara  Ladd  309 


"  What  on  earth  do  you  mean  by  being  so  crazy  ?  " 
she  demanded. 

No  answer  occurred  to  him  as  necessary.  He 
looked  at  her  inquiringly,  his  face  very  white,  his 
eyes  deep  sunken,  his  lips  straight  and  hard.  Bar- 
bara began  to  regret  that  she  had  not  managed  in 
some  other  way.  She  certainly  could  not  let  him 
go.  Yet  she  certainly  did  not  love  him  enough  to 
give  up  her  freedom  for  him,  —  to  sacrifice  all  the 
enchanting  experience  of  which  she  had  not  yet 
begun  to  tire,  to  dismiss  all  the  interesting  men, 
whose  homage  was  so  sweet  to  her  young,  unsa- 
tiated  vanity. 

"  Don't  you  know,  Robert,"  she  went  on,  beguil- 
ingly,  "  that  I  couldn't  possibly  get  along  without 
you?  I  don't  love  you,  but  I  do  love  you  to  love 
me,  you  know.  I  couldn't  bear  to  have  you  go  away 
and  forget  me,  and  love  some  other  woman,  — 
some  kind,  sweet,  beautiful  woman  who  could  love 
you  and  make  you  happy.  I  need  you  to  love  me. 
Though  I  know  there  is  no  earthly  reason  why  you 
should,  and  I  think  you  are  a  crazy  goose  to  do  it, 
and  I  believe  you  only  think  you  do,  anyhow !  " 

Robert  stood  motionless.  The  storm  raging  up 
and  down  within  him  turned  him  to  steel  on  the 
surface.  From  a  dry  throat  he  tried  to  speak  clearly 
and  with  moderation. 


310  Barbara  Ladd 


"  You  said  — '  almost ! '  Who  is  it  —  you  care 
more  for?  —  Cary  Patten?  " 

Barbara  broke  into  a  clear  peal  of  laughter,  and 
clapped  her  hands  with  a  fine  assumption  of  glee. 

"  Oh,  you  silly,  silly  child !  "  she  exclaimed.  "  It 
was  Uncle  Bob,  of  course,  that  I  was  thinking  of 
when  I  said  that.  I  love  Uncle  Bob  better  than 
any  one  else  in  the  world,  —  far  better  than  I  love 
you,  Robert,  I  can  tell  you  that.  But  I  care  for  you 
almost  as  much  as  for  Aunt  Hitty.  Cary  Patten! 
Why,  he  and  these  other  nice  men  who  are  making 
things  so  pleasant  for  me,  they  are  just  nezv  friends. 
I  like  them,  that's  all.  You  are  altogether  different, 
you  know.  But  I'm  just  not  in  love  with  you,  — 
and  so  you  talk  of  going  away  and  spoiling  every- 
thing for  me.  I  don't  call  that  loving  me,  Robert, 
—  not  as  /  would  love  a  girl  if  I  were  a  man.  But 
it's  not  my  fault  if  I'm  not  in  love  myself,  is  it?  I'm 
sorry,  —  but  I  don't  believe  I  can  love,  really,  the 
way  you  mean!  Cary  Patten,  indeed!  Why,  he's 
just  a  boy,  —  a  nice,  good-looking,  saucy,  conceited 
boy!" 

"Can't  you  try  to  love  me,  Barbara?"  pleaded 
Robert,  his  wrath  all  gone.  He  flung  himself  down 
at  her  feet,  and  wildly  kissed  them.  All  this  she 
permitted  smilingly,  but  the  request  seemed  to  her, 
as  it  was,  a  very  foolish  one. 

"  No,    I    can't ! "    she   answered,    wTith    decision. 


Barbara  Ladd  311 


"  Trying  wouldn't  make  me.  And  I  don't  think 
I  want  to,  anyhow.  I  want  to  enjoy  myself  here 
while  I  can.  And  I  want  you  to  be  nice,  and  help 
me  enjoy  myself,  and  not  bother  me.  Love  me 
just  as  much  as  you  like,  Robert,  but  don't  tell  me 
so  —  too  often !  And  don't  ask  me  to  love  you. 
And  don't  go  and  be  lovely  to  the  other  girls,  and 
make  believe  you  are  not  in  love  with  me,  for  that 
would  displease  me  very  much,  though  I  should 
know  it  was  making  believe  because  you  were 
cross  at  me.    So,  don't  be  horrid !  " 

This  seemed  to  Robert  a  somewhat  one-sided 
arrangement.  He  knew  he  would  accept  it,  yet  his 
honesty  compelled  him  to  express  his  sense  of  its 
injustice. 

"  I  certainly  would  be  lovely  to  the  other  girls 
if  I  wanted  to,  my  lady,"  said  he,  doggedly.  "  The 
trouble  is,  I  don't  want  to.  And  I  sha'n't  bore  myself 
just  for  the  sake  of  trying  to  make  you  think  I  don't 
care.  I  love  you,  that's  all  —  better  than  anything 
else  in  heaven  or  earth.  And  I  shall  make  you  love 
me,  my  lady !  " 

This  threat  amused  Barbara,  but  did  not  displease 
her. 

u  Very  well,  Robert,"  she  answered,  with  a  teas- 
ing, alluring  look  that  made  his  heart  jump.  "I 
sha'n't  try  to  prevent  you.    I'll  even  like  you  a  little 


312  Barbara  Ladd 


better  now,  at  once,  if  you  will  go  right  away  this 
minute  and  let  me  dress." 

"  Dress  for  Cary  Patten !  "  muttered  Robert,  kiss- 
ing her  hand  without  enthusiasm,  and  retiring  with 
sombre  brow.  That  he  should  go  in  this  temper 
did  not  please  her  ladyship  at  all. 

"  And,  Robert ! "  she  cried,  when  he  had  just 
reached  the  door. 

"  Yes,  my  lady !  "  and  he  came  back  once  more. 

"  You  said  good-bye  as  if  you  were  still  in  a 
nasty,  black  temper !  "  She  held  out  her  hand  to  him 
again.  This  time  he  kissed  it  with  what  she  consid- 
ered a  more  fitting  warmth. 

"  And,  Robert,  don't  forget  that  I  am  very,  very 
good  to  you,  far  more  so  than  you  deserve.  I  don't 
think  of  telling  Cary  Patten,  or  any  of  the  others, 
not  to  flirt  with  the  other  girls.  Cary  Patten  may 
be  as  lovely  to  them  as  he  likes,  and  I  sha'n't  mind 
one  bit,  so  long  as  it  does  not  interfere  with  his 
being  as  attentive  as  he  ought  to  be  to  me!  Now, 
it  is  a  great  honour  I  do  you,  Robert,  in  not  letting 
you  flirt." 

"  I  appreciate  it,  my  lady,"  he  answered,  permit- 
ting himself  to  smile.  "  A  great  honour,  indeed,  — 
though  a  superfluous  one !  " 

"  I  have  no  objection  to  that  word,  '  superfluous,' 
in  that  connection,"  said  Barbara,  thoughtfully,  to 
herself,  as  Robert  disappeared. 


CHAPTER   XXVIII. 

After  this  Robert  was  careful,  and  so  was  per- 
mitted to  be  fairly  happy  when  he  could  keep  the 
fires  of  jealousy  banked  down  in  his  heart.  Once 
in  awhile  they  would  begin  to  get  the  better  of  him ; 
and  then,  after  letting  Barbara  see  just  a  glimpse 
of  the  flame,  that  she  might  not  forget  it  was  there, 
he  would  leave  before  she  could  find  him  troublesome 
and  work  it  under  by  hours  of  furious  riding.  He 
skilfully  avoided  giving  her  any  further  excuse  for 
discipline ;  and  was  even  so  cunning,  at  times,  as 
to  pique  her  by  his  show  of  self-control.  In  this 
way  he  scored  continually  over  the  too  confident 
Cary  Patten,  who,  after  a  week  or  two  of  almost 
daily  calls  at  the  old  Dutch  house  on  State  Street, 
would  disappear  and  not  be  seen  near  Barbara  for 
days.  At  such  times  Robert  concluded  that  Cary 
had  been  tempting  Providence  and  suffering  the 
usual  disaster  of  those  who  so  presume.  As  for 
Jerry  Waite,  and  young  Paget,  and  the  rest  of  the 
infatuated  train,  Robert  thought  that  Barbara  was 
quite  too  infernally  nice  to  them  all,  and  cursed  them 
all  hotly  in  his  heart ;  but  he  could  not  refrain  from 

3*3 


314  Barbara   Ladd 


admiring  the  neat  manner  in  which  she  held  them  all 
in  hand. 

Early  in  the  autumn,  however,  it  became  still 
more  difficult  for  Barbara  and  Robert  to  keep  silent 
on  the  great  questions  which  they  so  dreaded  to  dis- 
cuss. The  First  Continental  Congress  was  in  session 
at  Philadelphia,  and  its  deliberations  formed  a 
theme  to  blister  men's  tongues.  Made  up  of  Tories, 
Radical  Patriots  or  potential  rebels,  and  Moderates, 
in  fairly  even  proportion,  it  satisfied  neither  Barbara 
nor  Robert.  The  latter,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  its 
New  York  delegates  were  of  his  own  party,  viewed 
it  with  singularly  clear  eyes,  and  saw  in  it  not 
merely  an  instrument  for  the  constitutional  redress 
of  just  grievances,  —  wherein  it  had  his  sympathy, 
—  but  a  forerunner  of  revolt,  —  wherein  it  called 
forth  his  passionate  reprobation.  To  Barbara,  on 
the  other  hand,  this  Continental  Congress,  of  which 
she.  had  hoped  so  much,  seemed  a  mean-spirited, 
paltering,  blear-eyed  thing,  incapable  of  seeing  what 
destiny  had  written  large  across  the  continent,  or  too 
timorous  to  acknowledge  what  it  saw.  The  strain 
was  further  increased  by  matters  which  touched  them 
both  personally.  With  the  news  that  Connecticut, 
stirred  up  by  false  rumours  of  a  struggle  with  the 
royal  troops  in  Boston,  had  thousands  of  her  militia 
under  arms,  came  a  letter  from  Mistress  Mehitable, 
saying  that  Doctor  John  was  among  them,  in  com- 


Barbara  Ladd  315 


mand  of  a  regiment,  and  that  Doctor  Jim  was  look- 
ing after  his  patients.  At  this  tidings  Barbara's 
heart  swelled  with  mingled  pride  and  anxiety.  She 
pictured  the  heroic  figure  Doctor  John  would  make, 
in  his  uniform,  about  to  fight  for  the  cause  which 
she  held  so  splendid  and  so  righteous.  At  the  same 
time  she  saw  him  already  in  the  fight,  waving  his 
sword  amid  the  smoke  and  slaughter,  and  she  shook 
with  terror  for  him.  Both  Robert  and  Glenowen 
were  with  her  when  the  letter  came,  and  as  she  read 
it  out  her  voice  broke  and  the  tears  rolled  down  her 
cheeks. 

"  Good  for  John  Pigeon  S  "  cried  Glenowen,  his 
eyes  aglow. 

Then  there  was  a  heavy  stillness  on  the  air,  such 
as  that  which  sometimes  portends  an  earthquake,  and 
neither  looked  at  Robert.  Robert's  face  was  very 
grave,  but  inspiration  came  to  him,  and  he  said 
exactly  the  right  thing. 

"  How  lonely  Doctor  Jim  and  Mistress  Mehitable 
must  be !  Second  Westings  must  be  perfectly  deso- 
late!" 

The  danger  was  averted.  He  had  dwelt,  not  upon 
the  point  of  difference,  but  the  point  of  sympathy; 
and  the  difference  sank  again  out  of  sight. 

"  Oh,"  murmured  Barbara,  "  I  almost  feel  as  if  I 
ought  to  go  back  to  Aunt  Hitty !  " 

"  I  know1 !    But  you  can't,  very  well,  sweetheart ! 


316  Barbara  Ladd 


For  which  I  am  most  thankful !  "  said  Glenowen, 
promptly. 

"  And  Mistress  Mehitable  has  Doctor  Jim,"  said 
Robert.  "  We  need  you  more  than  she  does,  dearest 
lady!" 

With  all  the  country  seething  as  it  was,  nowhere 
else,  perhaps,  save  in  New  York,  would  it  have  been 
possible  to  keep  up  so  long  the  pretence  of  harmony 
between  opposing  factions.  New  York  was  full  of 
"  Moderates,"  men  no  less  determined  to  resist  the 
tyranny  of  Parliament  than  to  retain  the  supremacy 
of  the  Crown.  Extremes  were  thus  held  in  check; 
and  men  met  in  apparent  social  harmony  whose 
opinions,  once  put  in  practice,  would  have  hurled 
them  at  one  another's  throats.  But  to  the  little  com- 
pany resorting  at  the  old  Dutch  house  on  State 
Street  there  entered  now  a  new  element  of  dis- 
ruption. 

At  a  dance  Barbara  had  met  a  slender,  dark  youth, 
a  student  at  King's  College,  who  had  made  himself 
prominent  by  his  radical  eloquence  at  a  great  mass- 
meeting  of  the  Continental  party.  His  scholarly 
breadth  of  thought,  combined  with  almost  fanatical 
zeal,  delighted  her.  And  he  had  the  uncommon  merit 
of  expressing  unforgettably  the  very  views  she 
herself  had  long  maintained.  They  became  too  inter- 
ested in  conversation  to  dance ;  and  from  that  even- 
ing Mr.  Alexander  Hamilton  came  often  to  Glen- 


Barbara  Ladd  317 


owen's  lodgings.  He  was  a  mere  boy  in  years,  but 
Glenowen  felt  his  power  at  once,  —  and  even  Robert, 
who  was  not  unnaturally  prejudiced,  was  too  honest 
not  to  admit  that  Barbara's  young  Mr.  Hamilton 
was  a  very  remarkable  and  accomplished  youth. 

Understanding  the  sharp  divergence  of  opinion 
in  the  little  circle,  Hamilton  kept  a  curb  upon  his 
tongue  save  at  convenient  seasons.  But  to  his  eager 
and  convicted  spirit  this  soon  became  too  difficult. 
One  evening,  when  there  were  none  to  hear  him  but 
Barbara,  Robert,  and  Glenowen,  the  torrent  of  his 
boyish  ardour  overflowed.  He  depicted  the  mo- 
mentous changes  toward  which  each  fateful  hour 
wTas  hurrying  them.  He  declared  it  was  no  more 
than  a  matter  of  days  ere  all  America  would  be  in 
the  throes  of  a  righteous  revolution.  He  prophesied 
the  birth  of  a  great  republic,  that  should  establish 
Liberty  in  her  New  World  home,  and  scourge  kings, 
thrones,  and  tyrannies  into  the  sea.  Glenowen  had 
looked  at  him  warningly,  but  in  vain.  Barbara, 
troubled  at  first,  grew  suddenly  hot  and  resentful 
at  the  thought  that  Robert  should  be  blind  to  the 
splendid  dream.     She  applauded  aggressively. 

Robert's  brows  were  knit,  but  he  had  no  emotion 
save  distress. 

"  I  pray  you  pardon  me,  dear  lady,  and  you,  Mr. 
Glenowen,  if  I  take  my  departure  at  once,"  said  he, 
at  the  first  pause.    "  Knowing  my  sentiments  as  you 


31 8  Barbara  Ladd 


both  do,  fully,  you  will  understand  that  I  could  not 
in  honour  stay  and  listen  to  such  doctrines  as  these 
of  Mr.  Hamilton's  and  not  oppose  them  with  all  my 
force." 

He  bent  over  Barbara's  hand,  but  she  petulantly 
snatched  it  away  without  letting  him  kiss  it.  Then, 
having  shaken  hands  heartily  with  Glenowen,  and 
bowed  stiffly  to  Hamilton,  he  withdrew  in  great 
trouble  of  mind,  feeling  that  now,  in  truth,  had 
come  to  an  end  the  truce  between  his  honour  and  his 
love.  He  walked  the  streets  half  the  night,  and  in 
the  morning,  white  and  dejected,  but  determined  to 
know  the  worst  at  once,  he  went  around  to  State 
Street  at  the  earliest  moment  permissible  after  break- 
fast. Barbara  received  him  coldly.  But  he  made 
haste  to  face  the  issue. 

"  Surely,  dearest  lady,  you  see  that  I  had  no  alter- 
native but  to  go !  "  he  pleaded.  "  I  could  not  quarrel 
with  him,  seeing  that  he  was  your  guest.  Yet  I 
could  not  sit  and  listen  to  his  treason!  " 

"  I  think  the  same  treason  as  he  uttered,  if 
treason  it  be !  And  utter  it,  too,  when  I  see  fit !  " 
said  Barbara. 

"  That's  different !  "  said  Robert,  and  paused. 

It  was  on  Barbara's  lips  to  ask,  "  How  ?  — 
Why?  "  but  she  refrained,  lest  she  should  complicate 
the  discussion. 

"  That's  different,"  he  repeated,  "  because  you  are 


Barbara  Ladcl  319 


a  woman,  and  because  I  love  you.  But  indeed,  my 
lady,  I  intended  no  discourtesy  to  Mr.  Hamilton. 
If  discourtesy  there  were,  surely  it  was  his.  I  would 
not  have  attacked  what  he  holds  sacred.  Yet  my 
sentiments  are  not  less  well  known  than  his.  He 
knew  that  I  was  pledged  to  the  king's  side." 

Barbara  bit  her  lips  hard.  This  was  just  what 
she  had  taken  such  pains  not  to  know.  Her  heart 
was  bitter  enough  against  him  for  his  views  them- 
selves; it  was  still  more  bitter  against  him  now 
for  forcing  her  to  confess  knowledge  of  those  views. 

"  A  little  discourtesy,  one  way  or  the  other,  what 
would  that  matter?  "  she  asked,  scornfully.  "  There's 
just  one  thing  that  matters  to  me  now,  Robert. 
War  is  coming.     Have  you  chosen  your  side?" 

"  My  side  has  chosen  me,  dear  lady !  "  he  an- 
swered, sorrowfully. 

"  Listen,  Robert,"  she  went  on,  "I  have  tried 
not  to  know  that  you  hold  opinions  which  I  hate, 
and  loathe,  and  despise.  It  means  everything  to  me, 
when  I  say  I  love  my  country  and  hate  the  enemies  of 
my  country.     I  believe  in  patriotism." 

"  And  I  believe,  also,  in  honour  and  loyalty,  oh, 
my  dearest  lady !  " 

"  Your  own  stupid  ideas  of  honour  and  loyalty!  " 
cried  Barbara,  with  fierce  impatience.  "  I  tell  you, 
Robert,  the  enemy  of  my  country  cannot  be  my 
friend." 


320  Barbara  Ladd 


"  But  if  I  am  the  enemy  of  your  country,  so  is 
Doctor  Jim!  "  protested  Robert. 

Barbara  flushed  with  annoyance.  She  did  not 
like  an  unanswerable  argument. 

"  I  love  Doctor  Jim !  "  she  shot  back  at  him,  with 
cruel  implication. 

"  And  I  love  you,  Barbara !  "  answered  Robert, 
also  with  meaning.     She  tossed  her  head  scornfully. 

"  A  fig  for  such  love!  "  she  cried.  "  Years  ago, 
when  you  were  just  a  boy,  and  could  not  have 
your  opinions  fixed  "  ("  About  the  age  of  your  Mr. 
Hamilton!"  he  interjected,  rashly),  "  I  remember 
asking  you,  for  my  sake,  to  teach  yourself  the  right 
things,  Robert,  and  join  our  side,  and  be  faithful  to 
your  own  country.  What  do  you  do?  It's  not  as 
if  it  were  a  mere  difference  of  opinion,  —  but  / 
am  right!  I  am  with  all  the  great  and  wise  of  old, 
who  have  taught  that  patriotism  is  a  man's  highest 
duty.  Yet  what  have  you  done,  Robert?  You 
vow  you  love  me!  Indeed!  And  you  prefer  a 
stupid,  far-off,  half-crazy  tyrant,  whom  you  call 
your  king,  and  whom  you  have  never  seen,  to  your 
country,  which  has  borne  and  cherished  you  —  and 
to  me!" 

"  Oh,  Barbara ! "  cried  Robert,  desperately. 
"  What  are  king  or  country,  what  are  heaven  and 
earth,  to  me,  compared  with  you  ?  But  what  would 
my  love  be  worth  to  you  if,  for  the  sake  of  my  own 


Barbara  Ladd  321 


happiness,  I  could  be  a  rebel  and  a  traitor  ?  Should 
I  be  worthy  to  love  you,  despising  myself?  What 
would  you  think  of  me,  if  I  could  sell  my  honour 
at  your  bidding!  " 

"  I  think  our  ideas  of  honour  are  different,  Rob- 
ert !  "  retorted  Barbara.  "  But  I  am  not  going  to 
quarrel  with  you  now.  I  am  disappointed  in  you, 
that's  all.  And  you  need  not  expect  that  after  this 
we  are  going  to  be  such  friends  as  we  have  been. 
Remember  that.  But  —  you  may  come  and  see  us 
sometimes,  of  course;  and  I  will  dance  with  you 
sometimes,  of  course  —  if  you  ask  me !  Only  —  it 
is  all  so  different!"  and  she  could  not  choke 
down  a  little  weary  sigh. 

Robert  was  on  his  knees  in  an  instant,  kissing 
her  hands ;  but  she  repulsed  him  resolutely. 

"  No,  you  have  chosen  for  yourself,"  she  said, 
not  unkindly.  "  It  hurts  me,  truly.  But  I  mean 
what  I  say !  Now,  you  must  go,  for  I  have  much  to 
do  before  dinner.    Good-bye !  " 


CHAPTER   XXIX. 

Barbara  was  as  good  as  her  word.  From  this 
time  forward  through  that  portentous  fall  and  dis- 
astrous winter,  she  never  let  Robert  forget  that  the 
old  footing  of  familiar  friendship  was  no  longer  his. 
She  began  to  make  a  difference,  too,  —  slight  but 
appreciable,  —  toward  all  the  declared  Tories  among 
her  followers.  She  was  bound  to  show  some  con- 
sistency toward  Robert.  And  moreover,  her  fiery 
and  dissatisfied  heart  was  growing  restless  for  the 
breach  that  all  saw  coming  but  all  strove  to  postpone. 
Oh,  she  thought,  let  the  cruel  line  be  drawn,  —  let 
the  make-believe  end,  —  let  us  know  our  friends  and 
enemies  apart,  —  let  the  suspense  be  done,  be  done ! 
And  —  let  me  get  back  home  to  Second  Westings ! 

Meanwhile  the  half-mad  king  went  on  fashioning 
the  hooks  that  were  to  rend  the  race  in  twain,  —  and 
an  insensate  Parliament  lent  power  to  his  fatal  hands, 
—  and  men  like  Chatham  and  Burke,  Shelburne  and 
Rockingham,  poured  out  impassioned  eloquence  in 
vain,  pleading  for  justice  to  the  colonies.  By  mid- 
winter (the  winter  of  1775)  it  was  plain  to  every 

one  that  the  king  meant  war,  if  that  wxre  the  only 

322 


Barbara  Ladd  323 


way  to  bring  the  colonies  to  their  knees.  Ten  thou- 
sand troops  were  ordered  to  Boston,  and  plans  were 
laid  for  organising  the  Indians  on  the  frontiers.  In 
the  colonies,  though  few  dared  say  it,  all  were  mak- 
ing ready  for  the  struggle.  On  every  hand  there  was 
drilling  of  militia  and  gathering  of  the  munitions  of 
war.  Only  in  New  York,  as  it  seemed,  things  moved 
as  usual,  and  the  royal  government  remained  in  full 
force.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  there  were  practically 
two  governments  going  on  side  by  side;  for  the 
various  "  committees  of  safety  "  went  about  their 
ominous  preparations,  and  the  governor  well  knew 
it  would  be  unsafe  to  interfere.  The  air  became  so 
tense  with  impending  storm  that  people  seemed  to 
hold  their  breath,  and  when  they  met  their  eyes  ques- 
tioned, "  Has  it  come?  " 

Then  it  came!  And  those  who  had  longest  and 
most  preparedly  waited  were  most  shocked.  The 
bolt  that  fell  was  the  news  of  Lexington  and  Con- 
cord, of  the  king's  troops,  —  disciplined,  war-tough- 
ened, the  bravest  in  the  world,  —  driven  in  wild  rout 
before  the  sharp-shooting  colonial  farmers.  For  five 
days  of  amazement  men  waited,  expecting  the  bloody 
vengeance  that  would  come.  But,  instead  of  ven- 
geance, came  the  word  that  Boston  was  beleaguered., 
that  Gage  with  his  veteran  regiments  was  shut  up 
tight  in  the  city  by  ill-armed  and  unorganised 
countryside  militia.     Straightway  men  drew  breath 


324  Barbara  Ladd 


again;  and  the  undecided  chose  their  side;  and 
masks  were  thrown  away.  Even  New  York,  the 
prudent,  the  divided,  the  long  politic,  proclaimed 
herself  at  last,  threw  off  the  last  empty  forms  of 
royal  authority,  and  seized  all  military  supplies 
within  her  borders. 

The  glittering  life,  which  had  been  to  Barbara  so 
gay  an  intoxication  all  these  months,  now  burst  like 
a  bubble,  leaving  her  to  realise  how  hollow  it  had 
been.  She  had  no  regret  for  it,  save  as  a  help  to 
forgetting  regrets.  She  was  dissatisfied,  and  wanted 
Second  Westings.  When,  therefore,  her  uncle  came 
to  her,  a  few  days  after  the  news  of  Bunker  Hill, 
with  word  that  he  had  accepted  a  commission  under 
General  Washington,  the  newly  appointed  com- 
mander-in-chief of  the  Continental  forces,  she  was 
not  greatly  surprised  or  shocked.  She  had  known 
all  along  that  Glenowen  would  be  at  the  front.  She 
had  faced  all  the  fear  of  it,  and  taught  herself  to 
think  only  of  the  honour.  Now,  she  turned  very 
pale,  tried  to  smile  encouragement,  but  sobbed  in- 
stead, ran  to  him  and  held  him  and  kissed  him. 

"  Of  course,  Uncle  Bob !  You  must,  I  know.  I 
will  be  brave  about  it,  I  promise  I  will,  and  not 
worry  you  with  any  silliness !  "  she  murmured  at 
last,  finding  her  voice.  "  I  wish  I  were  a  man,  so  I 
could  go  with  you !  " 

"  And  a  fiery  little  fighter  you  would  make,  sweet- 


Barbara  Ladd  325 


heart !  "  said  Glenowen,  cheerfully.  "  But  the  im- 
mediate point  is,  since  you  cant  go  a-soldiering  with 
your  old  uncle,  what  shall  we  do  with  you  ?  I  leave 
within  a  week  for  the  general's  headquarters  at 
Cambridge." 

"  You  will  take  me  with  you,  and  leave  me  at 
Second  Westings,  Uncle  Bob,  with  Aunt  Hitty  and 
Doctor  Jim  to  keep  me  cheered  up  while  you  are 
fighting!" 

"  That's  the  best  plan,  decidedly,  Barbe,  for  more 
reasons  than  one,"  he  answered,  suddenly  grave. 
"  But  I  don't  think  you  can  depend  on  Doctor  Jim 
for  very  long !  " 

"Why,  where  is  he  going?"  queried  Barbara, 
anxiously. 

"  Well,  you  know,  he'll  choose  to  go  wherever  the 
Royalist  volunteers  may  be  organising  their  forces ; 
but  if  he  did  not  choose,  he'd  probably  have  no 
choice.  Our  Connecticut  folk  left  many  dead  on 
Breed's  Hill,  dear,  and  the  Royalists  are  begin- 
ning to  find  their  homes  too  hot  for  them.  I'm 
afraid  Doctor  Jim  will  be  in  peril  of  rough  handling, 
with  his  hot  temper  and  his  fearless  tongue !  " 

"  No  one  in  Second  Westings  would  dare  to  be 
rude  to  Doctor  Jim !  "  cried  Barbara,  indignantly. 

"  You  don't  know  what  they  will  do,  sweetheart, 
when  they  are  stirred  out  of  their  accustomed  frame 
of  mind.    Besides,  even  if  the  Second  Westings  lads 


326  Barbara  Ladd 


should  be  mindful  of  their  manners,  there  are  the 
rougher  sort  from  the  neighbouring  villages  to  be 
thought  of.  They  owe  no  allegiance  to  a  Pigeon, 
or  a  Ladd  either !  It  may  be  you  will  find  yourself 
a  very  necessary  shield  to  Mistress  Mehitable, 
even!  " 

"  I  should  like  to  see  them  try  to  interfere  with 
Aunt  Hitty !  "  flamed  Barbara,  setting  her  white 
teeth  and  flushing.  "  I'd  shoot  them,  if  they  are 
patriots !  " 

Glenowen  nodded  approval,  but  counselled  caution. 

"  You  may  need  to  be  firm,  girlie,  but  you'll  need 
to  be  careful  and  tactful  too,  or  you  may  find  your- 
self fighting  on  the  wrong  side!  "  he  laughed. 

"  Do  you  really  mean  to  say  that  our  people  are 
beginning  to  attack  the  Tories,  just  because  they 
think  they  ought  to  stick  to  old  King  George?" 
queried  Barbara,  her  thought  turning  to  Robert, 
whom  she  had  not  seen  or  heard  of  for  more  than 
a  week. 

"  That's  inevitable,"  said  Glenowen.  "  If  we  are 
to  fight  England,  we  fight  the  Tories,  —  and  the 
Tories  with  the  more  bitterness  because  we  feel  that 
they  ought  to  be  with  us.  I've  heard  ugly  talk  already 
of  tar  and  feathers  for  some  of  our  important  men 
here.  And  they  have  heard  it  themselves,  and  found 
that  business  called  them  urgently  elsewhere!  Other 
of  our  Tory  friends  are  getting  up  volunteer  com- 


Barbara  Ladd  327 


panies,  —  a  sort  of  counterblast  to  our  militia  battal- 
ions. I  hear  talk,  too,  of  forcibly  disarming  all  our 
Tories,  —  especially  on  Long  Island,  where  they  are 
as  thick  as  hornets !  " 

"  I  suppose  that's  what  Robert  is  doing  —  getting 
up  a  company  to  fight  against  us!  We've  not  seen 
him  for  a  week !  "  said  Barbara,  with  a  bitterness 
which  her  affected  indifference  failed  to  disguise. 

"  Exactly  that !  He  is  one  of  our  most  dangerous 
antagonists  here !  "  answered  Glenowen,  sadly.  "  He 
wrould  have  been  seized  days  ago,  to  prevent  him 
doing  more  mischief;  but  he's  so  liked,  and  respected 
for  his  fairness,  by  all  of  our  party,  that  no  one  cares 
to  take  the  necessary  action.  He's  the  sort  of  man 
we  want  on  our  side !  " 

"  He's  as  pig-headed  as  King  George  himself ! " 
cried  Barbara,  hotly. 

"  No,  he's  true  to  his  colours !  "  said  Glenowen. 
"  Only  he  can't  see  that  he  has  nailed  them  to  the 
mast  of  the  wrong  ship !  " 

"I  have  no  patience  with  him!"  muttered  Bar- 
bara, bitterly,  after  a  moment's  silence. 

"  Did  you  ever  have,  dearie?  "  inquired  Glenowen. 

"  What  do  you  mean,  Uncle  Bob?  " 

"  Forgive  me,  Barbe,  if  I  speak  plainly,  these  being 
times  for  plain  speaking !  "  said  Glenowen.  "  Truly, 
I  can't  understand  a  man  who  loves  you  being  other 
than  wax  in  your  hands,  you  witch,  —  if  you  took 


328  Barbara   Ladd 


the  trouble  to  manage  him.  That  may  sound  cynical, 
but  I  hope  not.  It's  true.  You  owe  Robert  to  our 
cause !    We  want  him !  " 

Barbara  looked  down,  her  face  scarlet  and  her 
lips  quivering-.     Then  she  faced  her  uncle  bravely. 

"  I  begin  to  fear  I  want  him  for  myself,  as 
much  as  for  the  cause,  Uncle  Bob!  "  she  confessed. 

"  It's  not  Cary  Patten,  then?  "  asked  Glenowen. 

Barbara  smiled  enigmatically.  "  Cary  Patten  is 
extremely  charming!  "  she  answered.  "  But  do  you 
knowr,  Uncle  Bob,  if  Robert  is  still  in  town?  " 

"  I  think,"  said  Glenowen,  "  I  can  say  with  con- 
fidence that  he  will  get  away  from  the  city  to-morrow 
or  next  day,  —  for  friends  who  love  him,  in  our 
party,  will  let  him  know  the  danger  of  remaining! 
One  must  make  such  compromises  sometimes,  if  one 
is  a  red-blooded  human  being  and  not  a  bloodless 
saint!" 

"  Uncle  Bob,  I'm  afraid  you  will  never  be  a  Lucius 
Junius  Brutus !  "  said  Barbara. 

"  No,  thank  God !  "  cried  Glenowen,  with  con- 
viction. 

"I'm  so  glad !"  said  Barbara,  who  was  very  human 
when  she  was  not  all  woman.  "  Brutus  was  right, 
I  think !    But  I've  always  hated  him!  " 

Then  she  turned  to  her  scrutoir  and  wrote  a  cool 
little  note  to  Robert,  asking  him  to  come  in  and  speak 
to  her  a  moment  the  next  morning. 


Barbara  Ladd  329 


At  an  hour  almost  unseemly  Robert  came,  of 
course.  And  Barbara  was  gracious  to  him.  As  if 
there  had  been  no  estrangement,  she  talked  frankly 
of  Second  Westings  matters,  —  of  Doctor  John's 
service  in  the  siege  of  Boston,  of  Doctor  Jim's  dan- 
ger because  of  his  opinions,  of  Mistress  Mehitable's 
need  of  her  presence  at  Westings  House,  —  just  as 
if  they  were  Robert's  concern  as  well  as  hers.  The 
gladness  came  back  to  Robert's  dark  face,  and  for  a 
moment  he  was  forgetting  the  barrier  between  them. 

"  And  what  are  you  doing,  Robert  ?  Is  it  not 
becoming  a  little  dangerous  for  you  in  New  York 
now  ?  "  she  asked,  with  gentle  frankness. 

"  I  am  going  away  to-morrow,  dearest  lady,"  he 
answered,  "  lest  your  fiery  Continentals  tie  me  up!  " 

"  And  I  go  back  to  Second  Westings  next  week ! 
And  you  were  going  away  without  seeing  me  for 
good-bye?  "  asked  Barbara,  reproachfully.  "  Is  this 
the  Robert  that  used  to  say  he  loved  me  a  little?  " 

Robert  looked  at  her  in  silence.  "  I  adore  the  very 
ground  that  your  foot  treads  upon!  "  he  said,  pres- 
ently, in  a  quiet  voice. 

"  You  love  me  just  as  much  as  you  used  to?  "  she 
inquired,  almost  wistfully. 

"  As  much !  "  he  exclaimed,  with  scorn.  "  More 
and  more,  every  day  I  breathe.  These  months  that 
you  have  treated  me  so  cruelly  have  been  hell  on 
earth.    I  don't  see  how  I  have  lived  through  them." 


330  Barbara  Ladd 


"  I,  too,  have  not  been  very  happy,  Robert! "  she 
acknowledged,  softly.  "  I  believe  I  have  needed  you 
more  than  I  thought.  Do  you  know,  I  almost  think 
I  might  learn  to  care  a  great  deal — perhaps  all  that  a 
woman  can — if  only,  if  only,  dear  Robert,  there  were 
not  this  dreadful  barrier  between  us?  Oh,  if  you 
knew  how  I  long  to  have  you  in  sympathy  with  the 
cause  that  all  my  heart  is  given  to, — to  talk  it  all  over 
with  you,  to  hope  and  plan  and  look  forward  with 
you,  in  comradeship  and  understanding!  If  you 
knew  —  but  there,  I  see  by  your  obstinate  mouth  it 
is  no  use.  I  might  as  well  pour  out  my  heart  against 
a  stone  wall.  Nothing  will  soften  you!  Nothing 
will  convince  you !  Love  me  ?  You  love  me  ?  You 
have  no  heart  at  all  in  your  breast!  Nothing  but 
a  priggish  theory !  " 

She  burst  into  passionate,  disappointed  tears, 
flung  herself  down  on  the  sofa,  and  buried  her  face 
in  the  cushions. 

Robert  was  in  an  anguish.  His  mouth  was  drawn 
and  white.  Why  should  he  be  called  upon  to  face 
so  hideous  an  alternative?  Why  must  he  pay  so 
appalling  a  price  for  loyalty,  for  fidelity,  for  honour? 
What  was  this  bourgeois  tyrant  in  England,  that 
the  price  of  loyalty  to  him  should  be  the  love  of  the 
woman  who  was  dearer  than  heaven  ?  Robert  felt  a 
fierce  hatred  of  the  man  George  of  England,  who 
was  so  unworthy  of  his  kingship !    He  was  mad  to 


Barbara  Ladd  331 


throw  himself  at  Barbara's  feet,  and  tell  her  all  his 
life  was  hers  to  do  as  she  would  with,  to  offer  his 
faith,  loyalty,  honour,  a  living  sacrifice  to  her  love, 
and  bid  her  send  him  to  fight  under  whatever  flag 
she  called  hers !  But  —  he  held  the  madness  in  leash. 
The  tough  fibre  of  his  will  gave  a  little,  but  would 
not  break.  The  drops  stood  out  on  his  forehead. 
But  all  he  said  was : 

"  Beloved,  beloved,  I  worship  you.  You  are  all 
I  can  dream  of  womanhood.  You  are  all  of  life, 
all  of  love,  all  of  wonder  and  beauty  that  the  world 
can  show.  There  is  nothing  my  soul  can  ever  desire 
but  you,  you,  you,  wonderful  one ! "  And  he  tried 
to  take  her  hands  from  under  her  wet  face. 

Through  her  sobs,  Barbara  had  listened  eagerly 
for  one  word  that  might  show  a  yielding.  But  there 
was  no  such  word,  —  no  sign  that  he  even  realised 
that  she  had  been  offering  her  love  as  the  incalculable 
price  that  should  purchase  him  to  the  service  of 
his  country.  This  infinitely  precious  price,  —  he 
spurned  it,  then!  Angry  mortification  surged  over 
her,  mixed  with  a  pain  that  clutched  at  her  heart. 
The  humiliation  of  it  —  and  the  loss !  She  sat  up 
suddenly. 

"Go,  go,  go!"  she  cried,  pointing  to  the  door. 
"  I  don't  want  to  ever  see  you  again.  I  hate  you. 
I  hate  you.     Go  —  at  once!  " 

And  then,  as  Robert  made  no  move,  and  strove  to 


332  Barbara  Ladd 


plead  once  more,  she  sprang  to  her  feet,  darted  from 
the  room,  and  fled  up-stairs.  He  heard  her  door 
close  sharply,  —  like  the  cutting  off  of  life,  it  seemed 
to  him.  And  he  went  away,  walking  rather  blindly, 
and  fumbling  for  some  moments  at  the  hall  door 
before  he  could  find  the  latch.  That  same  evening 
he  left  New  York. 

It  was  hours  before  Barbara  was  herself  again, 
so  Glenowen  had  to  dine  alone.  Late  in  the  after- 
noon, after  having  bathed  her  face  back  to  present- 
ability,  she  dressed  to  go  out  for  a  sharp  walk. 
When  her  toilet  was  almost  complete,  word  came 
up  that  Cary  Patten  was  in  the  drawing-room. 

Now  it  was  at  least  six  weeks  since  Cary  had  last 
attempted  to  make  love  to  her,  and  in  the  meantime 
he  had  been  altogether  charming,  —  attentive,  defer- 
ential, full  of  enthusiastic  ambition,  and  vastly  inter- 
esting in  his  large  forecasts  of  what  the  thirteen 
colonies  would  do  with  independence  when  they  got 
it.  Barbara,  therefore,  had  practically  forgotten 
that  he  was  ever  in  disgrace,  and  was  unwilling  to 
refuse  him  admittance,  little  though  it  suited  her 
mood  to  see  him.  She  went  down  at  once  and 
received  him  cordially. 

Cary  was  in  a  mood  of  triumphant  excitement, 
dashed  with  romantic  melancholy.  He  looked  even 
straighter,  taller,  more  broad-shouldered  and  high- 
mettled  than  usual.     His  goldy-brown  short  hair 


Barbara  Ladd  333 


had  a  crisper  curl,  his  candid  blue  eyes  sparkled 
with  joy  and  importance. 

"  Oh,  I  know !  You  needn't  tell  me !  "  cried  Bar- 
bara, with  hearty  sympathy.  "  Only  one  thing  in 
the  world  could  make  your  face  shine  as  it  does 
now,  Cary !    You  are  ordered  to  the  front !  " 

"  You've  guessed  it,  sweet  mistress !  "  he  cried, 
in  a  voice  whose  boyish  exultation  would  not  be 
kept  down.  "  My  company  is  one  of  those  chosen 
by  the  Committee  of  Safety  to  go  north.  We  march 
to-morrow!  In  a  few  days  we  wall  be  in  the  field 
—  we  shall  be  in  the  thick  of  it !  " 

"  Oh,  you  are  so  fortunate,  Cary !  "  responded 
Barbara.  "  Think  what  it  must  be  to  be  just  a 
woman,  and  have  to  stay  at  home  gnawing  one's 
heart,  while  others  have  the  glorious  joy  of  fighting 
for  freedom !  " 

"  Only  one  thing  I  need  to  make  me  happy  as  I 
go,  sweet  lady !  "  said  he,  his  voice  tender,  passion- 
ate, caressing.  "  It  is  bitter  to  leave  you.  But  I 
should  go  thrilling  with  happiness,  to  win  fame  that 
would  make  you  proud,  or  to  die  willingly  for  my 
country,  —  if  I  might  go  wearing  your  favour,  if 
I  might  go  as  —  "  but  here  he  paused.  Barbara's 
face  was  cold  and  discouraging. 

There  was  a  moment  of  strained  silence.  Barbara 
felt  a  harsh  resentment  at  his  persistence,  and  an 
added  anger  that  it  should  be  thrust  upon  her  on 


334  Barbara  Ladd 


this  day  when  her  heart  was  so  bitter  sore.  "  Yet/' 
she  was  arguing  with  herself,  "  the  poor  boy  does 
love  me.  And,  unlike  some  others,  he  is  going  to 
fight  on  the  right  side,  to  shed  his  blood,  perhaps, 
for  the  land  of  his  birth.  Why  should  I  not  be  a 
little  kind  to  him,  —  if  he  does  not  ask  too  much !  " 
On  a  sudden  generous  and  pitying,  if  misleading, 
impulse,  she  took  a  ribbon  from  her  throat  and  gave 
it  to  him. 

"  There,  boy,"  she  said,  gently,  "  take  that,  and 
don't  ever  say  I  was  not  good  to  you!  May  it  be 
a  charm  to  ward  off  the  bullet  and  the  steel !  " 

A  glad  light  flashed  into  the  lad's  face.  He 
went  down  on  one  knee  and  kissed  the  hem  of  her 
skirt,  crying  something  inarticulately.  Then  he 
sprang  up  and  seized  her  in  his  arms,  and  would 
have  kissed  her  but  that  she  wrenched  herself  free 
with  some  violence. 

"  How  dare  you !  "  she  cried,  stamping  her  foot. 

Cary  looked  crestfallen  and  bewildered. 

"  But,  Barbara,"  he  protested,  blundering  in  his 
confusion,  "don't  you  love  me?  I  thought  —  why 
—  this  dear  ribbon  —  "  and  he  held  it  out  to  her 
appealingly. 

Barbara's  anger  faded  on  the  instant.  She  saw 
that  in  desiring  to  be  kind  she  had  misled  him.  She 
held  out  her  hand  to  him,  and  smiled,  as  she  said : 

"Oh,  truly,  I'm  sorry  if  I  seemed  rude,  Cary. 


Barbara  Ladd  335 


Forgive  me.  But,  you  know,  I  had  to  be  rather 
hasty,  or  you  would  have  kissed  me.  And  I  couldn't 
let  you  kiss  me,  Cary,  even  though  you  are  going  to 
the  war!" 

"  Why  not,  dear  heart?  "  persisted  he.  "  Am  I 
not  going  as  your  chosen  cavalier?  Have  you  not 
given  me  your  favour?  " 

"  Why,  no  —  at  least,  not  exactly  that  —  "  she 
stammered.  "  I  thought  you  knew,  Cary,  that  I 
don't  love  you  one  bit!  I've  told  you  so  over  and 
over  again;  and  I've  sent  you  away  over  and  over 
again  for  bothering  me  about  it  when  I  had  told  you 
not  to!  But  I  do  like  you,  ever  so  much.  And  I 
shall  think  of  you,  away  fighting  bravely  —  as  I 
know  you  will  —  for  our  sacred  cause.  And  so,  I 
gave  you  the  ribbon  —  because  —  because  —  you 
said  it  would  make  you  a  little  happier  if  you  had 
something  of  the  sort  to  take  with  you !  Oh,  please 
do  try  to  understand,  Cary !  "  And  she  twisted  her 
hands  in  distress. 

Cary  Patten  was  too  much  of  a  boy  not  to  show  all 
the  bitterness  of  his  overthrow.  He  had  been  lifted 
up  to  the  crest  of  triumph,  and  hurled  down  disas- 
trously. He  had  believed,  when  Barbara  gave  him 
her  token,  that  the  victory,  which  his  confident  spirit 
had  never  doubted  would  be  his  at  last,  had  come 
at  this  high  moment  of  his  career.  He  was  not 
only  desperately  hurt,  but  sorely  humbled.     His 


336  Barbara  Ladd 


mind  worked  rapidly,  seeking  explanations.  One 
passion  after  another  chased  itself  over  his  trans- 
parent face;  till  at  length  Barbara  saw  his  features 
grow  harder  and  more  mature  than  she  had  ever 
before  seen  them,  and  the  poor  little  ribbon  was 
crumpled  ruthlessly  in  his  grip. 

"I  understand!"  he  exclaimed,  fiercely,  a  stri- 
dent tone  in  his  voice  which  was  quite  new  to  her. 
"  It  is  that  runaway  Tory  hound,  that  traitor  Gault, 
that  —  "  and  here  he  choked.  "  If  he  has  not  already 
run  away  I  shall  settle  the  scoundrel  to-night.  I 
shall  —  " 

"  wSilence,  sir!"  cut  in  Earbara.  The  tone,  the 
look  in  her  face,  brought  the  mad  boy  to  his  senses 
like  a  drenching  in  cold  water.  He  could  have 
bitten  off  his  tongue  for  the  outburst. 

"  Mr.  Gault  was  my  friend,  and  his  name  is  en- 
titled to  respect  in  my  presence ! "  she  went  on.  "  And 
he  is  a  gentleman!  Of  you  I  should  have  said  the 
same  thing  —  a  few  moments  ago!  Give  me  back 
my  ribbon  —  what  you  have  left  of  it,  Mr.  Patten !  " 

"  Oh,  no !  no !  Forgive  me !  "  Cary  was  crying, 
in  abject  penitence,  even  while  she  spoke,  at  the 
same  time  thrusting  the  ribbon  into  his  breast,  as 
if  he  feared  that  Barbara  would  take  it  by  force. 
"  I  was  crazy  mad,  dear  heart.  I  didn't  know  what 
I  was  saying.  I  take  it  all  back.  It  was  not  so. 
I  know  he  is  a  gentleman  and  a  brave  man,  if  he 


Barbara  Ladd  337 


is  a  traitor  Tory.  Surely  you  will  forgive  me,  when 
you  have  broken  my  heart  —  Barbara." 

While  he  was  speaking  Barbara  had  moved  away 
to  the  other  side  of  the  table;  but  now,  so  dejected 
did  he  look,  so  humble,  so  repentant,  and  withal  so 
wholesomely  boyish,  that  her  heart  softened  once 
more,  and  she  came  back. 

"  Yes,  Cary,  I  will  overlook  it,  and  make  allow- 
ance, because  I  see  you  are  sorry.  And  I  am  still 
truly  your  friend,  and  will  think  about  you  when 
you  are  away.  And  I  am  sorry  I  did  anything  to 
make  you  misunderstand  me,  so  you  must  give  me 
back  the  poor  little  ribbon  that  did  the  mischief." 

"  No,  you  surely  can't  be  so  cruel  as  that !  "  he 
pleaded.  "  I  feel  it  would  be  unlucky  to  give  it  back. 
Don't  kill  me,  dear.    Let  me  keep  the  dear  ribbon !  " 

Barbara  hesitated.  She  wanted  the  ribbon  back. 
The  giving  had  been  spoiled  for  her.  Her  impulse 
was  to  insist.  But  events  of  late  had  softened  her, 
had  given  her  more  comprehension  of  feelings  other 
than  her  own,  —  had  made  her,  indeed,  a  little  less 
self-centred.     She  crushed  down  her  vexation. 

"  Weil,  keep  it  then,  Cary,  —  and  my  friendship 
with  it,"  she  said,  gravely.  "  And  to  the  blessing 
with  which  I  blessed  it  for  you,  I  add  many  more, 
—  that  fame  may  come  your  way,  and  danger  turn 
aside.    Good-bye ! " 


CHAPTER    XXX. 

Barbara  felt  as  if  a  strange  great  wind  had 
blown  upon  New  York,  scattering  and  changing 
everything.  Robert  was  gone,  —  when  she  was  see- 
ing little  of  him,  and  not  desiring  to  see  more,  she 
had,  nevertheless,  had  a  satisfaction  in  knowing  he 
was  within  reach.  Now  Cary  Patten  was  gone,  and 
Jerry  Waite  was  gone,  and  young  Paget  was  gone, 
and  the  student  enthusiast,  young  Mr.  Hamilton, 
came  no  more  to  the  old  Dutch  house  on  State 
Street,  being  engrossed  in  matters  of  secrecy  and 
import.  And  now  she  herself  and  Uncle  Bob  were 
going.  She  felt  as  if  that  separating  wind  would 
inexorably  have  lifted  and  borne  her  somewhere, 
even  if  the  haven  of  Second  Westings  had  not  been 
open.  Fate  drove  indifferently,  but  left  her  free 
to  shape  her  course  for  Westings  House  and  Aunt 
Hitty,  and  her  own  apple-tree  down  in  the  back 
garden. 

A  few  days  later  she  was  at  home.  Glenowen, 
resting  but  an  hour  or  two,  had  hastened  on  to  his 
duties.  Everything  seemed  to  Barbara  just  as  when 
she  went  away,  save  that.  Doctor  Jim  was  graver 

333 


Barbara  Ladd  339 


than  of  old,  seeming  weighed  down  with  care;  and 
Doctor  John's  absence  left  a  void  that  ached  all 
the  time.  But  her  little  room  was  just  as  she  had 
left  it,  —  fresh  dusted,  and  with  a  few  things  lying 
about  out  of  place,  as  she  loved  to  have  it.  The 
dust  upon  the  coverlet  where  "  Mr.  Grim  "  slept 
was  there  as  of  old.  "  He  did  not,  in  fact,  sleep 
there  once  during  all  your  absence,  dear,"  declared 
Mistress  Mehitable,  "  till  the  very  night  before  your 
return,  when  he  forsook  me  and  stalked  back  to 
his  old  place.  Then  I  knew  that  you'd  be  here  the 
next  day,  and  we  were  very  happy  together;  and  I 
gave  him  clear  cream  for  his  breakfast,  and  made 
him  very  sick !  " 

Within  three  days  the  old  life  had  taken  Barbara 
back  at  every  point,  and  she  felt  as  if  she  had  awak- 
ened from  a  brilliant  but  oppressive  dream.  Of 
course  it  wTas  interesting  telling  it  all  —  or  not  quite 
all  —  to  every  one ;  to  every  one  the  truth,  yet  not 
to  each  the  same  story.  There  was  one  emphasis  for 
Aunt  Hitty  and  Doctor  Jim,  one  for  the  Reverend 
Jonathan  Sawyer,  one  for  Mercy  Chapman,  and  one 
much  more  vivid  and  enlightening  for  old  Debby. 
But  even  as  she  told  it,  it  began  to  seem  unreal 
to  herself.  And  soon  she  grew  unwilling  to  talk 
of  it  at  all. 

As  the  bright  Connecticut  summer  slipped  by, 
Barbara  could  not  but  notice  a  change  of  temper 


34-0  Barbara  Ladd 


among  the  villagers  of  Second  Westings.  To  her- 
self they  were  as  civil,  as  deferential  as  ever,  but, 
she  thought,  with  a  little  difference.  Half  a  dozen 
families  had  representatives  in  the  army  besieging 
Boston,  and  two  of  the  village  homes  were  in  mourn- 
ing. When  she  was  walking  with  Doctor  Jim  she 
noticed  the  sullenness  with  which  his  hearty,  kindly 
greetings  were  returned,  —  a  sullenness  which  Doc- 
tor Jim  never  allowed  himself  to  observe.  Then 
there  was  difficulty  in  getting  extra  help  when  spe- 
cial needs  arose  at  Westings  House.  The  people 
were  unwilling  to  work  for  Mistress  Mehitable. 
They  positively  refused  to  work  with  Amos,  who 
had  to  give  up  his  innocently  convivial  evenings  at 
the  tavern  and  remain  sulking  in  the  kitchen,  abused 
and  scorned  by  Abby  because  he  was  always  in  her 
way.  In  September,  when  Congress  despatched  the 
army  of  the  north  to  conquer  Canada,  seven  more 
men  went  from  Second  Westings,  and  enthusiasm 
grew.  With  news  of  the  capture  of  Montreal  came 
word  also  that  two  of  the  Second  Westings  men 
had  fallen  in  the  battle.     Then  feelings  grew  hot. 

One  morning,  when  Barbara  was  visiting  Mercy 
Chapman's  mother,  —  now  a  bedridden  invalid,  — 
she  looked  out  of  the  window  and  saw  Mistress 
Mehitable  coming  down  the  street.  As  she  passed 
his  office,  she  was  joined  by  Doctor  Jim,  and  the 
two  strolled  together  toward  Squire  Gillig's  store. 


Barbara  Ladd  341 


Suddenly  she  saw  Doctor  Jim  leave  Mistress  Me- 
hitable's  side,  and  stride  angrily  toward  the  tavern. 
She  ran  out  at  once  to  see  what  was  the  matter. 
What  she  saw  set  her  speeding  after  Doctor  Jim 
in  breathless  indignation. 

Amos,  his  arms  tied  behind  him,  was  struggling 
and  kicking  in  the  hands  of  a  dozen  men  and  youths, 
several  of  whom  had  bloody  noses  to  prove  that 
Amos  had  stood  to  his  colours.  Now  they  were 
hurrying  him  to  the  cooper  shop.  —  where  they 
knew  there  was  a  barrel  of  pitch,  —  amid  cries  of 
"  Ride  the  sneaking  Tory  on  a  rail,"  "  Tar  and 
feather  him,"  "  Duck  him,"  "  Hang  him."  All  at 
once  they  were  confronted  by  the  tall  bulk  of  Doctor 
Jim ;  and  they  stopped  short.  The  old  habit  of 
deference  was  strong  upon  them,  and  several  drew 
away,  while  others,  though  they  doggedly  main- 
tained their  grip  on  the  furious  and  unterrified 
Amos,  dropped  their  eyes  and  hung  their  heads  when 
Doctor  Jim's  angry  gaze  fell  upon  them. 

"Hands  off!  Drop  that  man!  You  cowardly 
bullies,  a  dozen  against  one!  Drop  him,  do  you 
hear  ? "  And  without  waiting  for  the  effect  of 
his  words  he  strode  into  the  mob,  flung  the  fringes 
of  it  to  this  side  and  that  with  no  gentle  hand,  and 
reached  those  who  had  actual  hold  upon  the  prisoner. 

When  he  found  that  they  were  standing  their 


342  Barbara   Ladd 


ground,  daring  to  disobey  his  orders,  his  wrath  was 
tremendous. 

"  You  scoundrels !  You  dirty  scum  of  the  earth !  " 
he  roared.  And  with  that  he  plucked  the  nearest 
fellow  by  the  scruff  of  the  neck  and  the  seat  of 
his  breeches  and  flung  him  into  the  gutter.  To  the 
next  he  gave  an  open-handed  buffet  that  sent  him 
reeling  from  the  melee.  Ignoring  the  rest,  he  was 
proceeding  to  unpinion  Amos,  when  the  leader  of 
the  mob,  a  big  blacksmith  from  Westings  Centre, 
who  was  a  famous  demagogue,  confronted  him. 

"  Look  a-here,  Doctor  Pigeon,"  he  said,  defiantly, 
"  we're  lettin'  you  be,  leastways  for  the  present ! 
You  let  us  be,  an'  jest  mind  yer  own  business. 
Hands  off  yerself!" 

Doctor  Jim,  apparently,  never  heard  him. 

The  blacksmith  therefore  seized  Amos  by  the 
waist  and  jerked  him  from  Doctor  Jim's  grasp. 

"Look  a-here,  you!"  he  shouted,  squaring  off. 
"  You've  got  to  fight  me  afore  you  untie  that  man!  " 

Fight  him !  Doctor  Jim  gave  an  inarticulate  roar 
of  scorn  and  fury  at  the  idea.  Then  his  great  white 
hands  shot  out  like  lightning.  One  seized  the  cham- 
pion's throat;  the  other  laid  terrible  hold  upon  his 
waistband,  with  just  so  much  of  clothing  and  skin 
and  flesh  as  those  iron  fingers  could  compass.  One 
huge,  dislocating  shake  and  the  champion  had  no 
more  fight  in  him.    Doctor  Jim  lifted  his  demoralised 


Barbara  Ladd  343 


opponent  bodily,  carried  him  several  paces,  and 
dropped  him  over  the  horse  trough  into  the  dirty, 
deep-trodden  mud.  Then,  seeing  that  Amos  had 
got  himself  free,  he  strode  back  to  where  Mistress 
Mehitable  was  waiting,  his  heavy  eyebrows  still 
working  with  indignation. 

Barbara,  whom  he  had  not  seen,  now  had  a  word 
to  say  to  the  discomfited  rabble,  who  one  and  all 
knew  her  views  and  admired  her  prodigiously.  She 
eyed  them  for  half  a  minute  with  slow,  eviscerating 
scorn.  Then  she  said :  "  You  call  yourselves 
patriots!  You  make  me  ashamed  of  the  name.  If 
all  Americans  were  like  you  they'd  deserve  freedom, 
wouldn't  they?  And  what  is  that  ruffian  doing 
here?"  pointing  to  the  bedraggled,  discredited, 
foaming  blacksmith.  "  Must  you  go  to  Westings 
Centre  for  a  leader?  You  had  better  send  him  back 
where  he  belongs !  " 

"  You'd  better  shet  your  mouth,  miss,"  sputtered 
the  champion,  "  or  you  may  git  — "  but  at  this 
moment  the  men  of  Second  Westings,  recovering 
their  manhood,  fell  upon  him  with  great  unanimity 
and  completed  the  discipline  which  Doctor  Jim  had 
left  unfinished.  And  Barbara  walked  away  with  her 
head  in  the  air. 

After  this  Mistress  Mehitable,  who  was  herself, 
and  for  herself,  absolutely  fearless  behind  her  quiet 
blue  eyes,  yielded  to  Doctor  Jim's  persuasions  and 


344  Barbara  Ladd 


let  it  be  known  that  Barbara,  being  her  heir,  was 
partly  in  authority  at  Westings  House.  Whenever 
extra  help  was  needed,  therefore,  Amos  was  sent 
down  to  Doctor  Jim's  and  Barbara  hired  her  helpers 
in  her  own  name.  To  her  employ  the  Second  West- 
ings men  came  willingly  enough,  and  showed  them- 
selves humourously  tolerant  of  Abby's  caustic  tongue> 
which  was  given  full  run  whenever  they  entered  the 
kitchen.  And  the  village  settled  back  gradually  into 
a  hollow  imitation  of  its  ancient  somnolence. 

In  the  winter,  however,  not  long  after  Christmas, 
there  was  another  stirring  of  the  hot  embers.  WTord 
came  of  Montgomery's  death  and  Arnold's  repulse 
before  the  walls  of  Quebec.  There  were  men  of 
Connecticut  among  those  who  fell  that  night  in  the 
northern  snow.  Those  at  home  required  an  outlet 
for  their  feelings.  What  were  the  Tories  for,  if 
not  to  afford  them  a  chance  of  evening  matters  up? 
A  rabble  of  the  worser  elements  from  the  up-river 
villages,  led  by  some  noisy  fanatics,  descended  upon 
Gault  House  by  night,  and  set  it  on  fire. 

Finding  old  Lady  Gault  ill  in  bed,  they  somewhat 
regretted  their  haste,  and  carried  her,  bed  and  all, 
with  as  much  of  her  clothing  as  they  could  con- 
veniently save,  to  the  house  of  one  of  the  tenants  on 
the  grounds.  The  leaders  apologised  to  her,  indeed, 
assuring  her  that,  had  they  known  it  would  so  incon- 
venience her  to  have  her  house  burnt  down  just  then, 


Barbara  Ladd  345 


they  would  have  turned  their  avenging  attention 
elsewhere  for  that  night  and  awaited  her  recovery. 
The  fiery  and  arrogant  old  lady  was  so  overwhelmed 
with  helpless  rage,  less  at  the  destruction  of  the 
home  of  the  Gaults  with  all  its  treasures  than  at  the 
desecration  she  had  suffered,  that  she  was  seized 
next  morning  with  an  apoplexy  and  died  in  an  hour. 

This  news  brought  consternation  to  Westings 
House.  Doctor  Jim  came  up  to  talk  it  over.  He 
was  too  much  enraged  to  find  relief  in  one  of  his 
customary  large  ebullitions.  It  reduced  him  to  a 
black  silence,  which  Barbara  found  much  more  im- 
pressive than  his  wrath. 

"  I  feel  that  you  ought  to  go  away,  Jim,"  said 
Mistress  Mehitable,  with  a  tenderness  that  made 
Barbara  eye  them  both  sharply,  and  think  of  Doctor 
John.  -  "  These  townships  are  no  place  for  a  reckless 
partisan  like  you !  " 

"  There  is  just  one  reason  why  you  might  urge 
me  to  go,  sweet  mistress !  "  said  he.  "  Lest  I  be 
prisoned  here,  and  so  lose  the  chance  to  fight  for 
the  king!  But  my  place  is  here  till  John  comes 
back.  You  and  Barbara  cannot  be  left  alone.  And 
the  sick  folks,  —  I  cannot  desert  them.  But  when 
John  comes  —  " 

"If  it  be  not  then  too  late!  Oh,  think,  Jim! 
Every   hour   now   that   you   stay   here   carries   the 


346  Barbara  Ladd 


menace  of  some  ignominious  violence!  How  can  I 
stand  it  ?  " 

"  My  place  is  here,  at  present,  most  dear  lady!  " 
answered  Doctor  Jim,  with  a  positiveness  that  left 
no  room  for  argument.  "  But  I  think  the  men  of 
Second  Westings  would  not  quite  fail  Jim  Pigeon, 
even  though  they  do  curse  him  behind  his  back  for 
a  Tory!  " 

The  destruction  of  Gault  House  and  the  death  of 
Lady  Gault  rilled  Barbara's  heart  with  pity  and  ten- 
derness toward  Robert.  It  oppressed  her  with  a 
feeling  that  he  was  left  desolate,  a  homeless  and 
wandering  outcast.  She  wondered  where  and  when 
the  news  would  reach  him,  —  being  such  evil  news 
she  felt  sure  it  would  journey  fast.  No  word  or 
rumour  had  she  heard  of  him  since  that  day  of 
their  harsh  parting  in  the  old  Dutch  house  on  State 
Street. 

A  few  days  later  she  heard  from  Glenowen,  who 
was  now  in  command  of  one  of  the  regiments  be- 
sieging Boston,  that  Cary  Patten,  after  covering 
himself  with  glory  by  his  wild  daring  and  desperate 
exploits,  had  fallen  with  Montgomery  before  the 
walls  of  Quebec.  This  news  sent  Barbara  to  her 
room  for  the  afternoon.  Besides  her  many  tears 
for  the  gallant  boy,  who  had  loved  her  gallantly 
and  truly,  she  could  not  for  the  moment  rid  herself 
of  a  vague  remorse.    Had  she  been  quite  fair  to  him  ? 


Barbara  Ladd  347 


Had  she  encouraged  him  even  while  repelling  him? 
At  first  she  called  herself  guilty.  But  after  some 
hours  of  this  self-reproach  she  came  to  a  clearer 
view,  and  saw  that  it  was  sentimental  weakness 
to  accuse  herself.  Her  grief  on  his  account,  how- 
ever, was  deep  and  sincere.  "  Poor,  beautiful,  brave 
boy !  "  she  sighed,  at  last.  "  How  little  good  to  him 
were  my  token  and  my  blessings !  I  fear  I  am  a 
curse,  and  not  a  blessing,  to  any  one  who  greatly 
cares  for  me!"  Then  the  thought  flashed  across 
her  —  "  If  it  were  Robert,  instead  of  poor  Cary ! 
How  do  I  know  that  Robert,  too,  has  not  been  —  " 
and  at  the  thought  her  heart  stood  still.  A  sort 
of  numbness  came  over  her,  and  she  found  herself 
shaking  violently.  She  had  been  lying  with  her 
face  in  the  pillow,  but  now  she  sat  up  sharply, 
brushed  the  thick,  dark  locks  back  from  her  eyes, 
went  over  to  the  dressing-table,  lit  two  candles,  and 
looked  at  her  white,  frightened  face  in  the  glass. 

"  I  didn't  know  I  cared  —  like  that !  "  she  said  to 
herself,  at  last. 


CHAPTER    XXXI. 

In  the  spring,  a  little  before  the  fall  of  Boston, 
Doctor  John  came  home.  Second  Westings  learned 
then  for  the  first  time  what  he  had  so  studiously 
and  considerately  kept  concealed,  —  the  fact  that 
he  had  been  wounded  in  a  skirmish  two  months 
before.  As  soon  as  he  was  well  enough  for  the 
journey,  he  had  been  ordered  home.  He  looked 
gaunt,  and  walked  with  some  difficulty,  but  other- 
wise seemed  fairly  well ;  and  he  made  haste  to  take 
back  his  old  patients,  with  many  expressions  of 
amazement  that  they  had  not  died  off  under  Jim 
Pigeon's  treatment. 

His  coming  brought  new  cheer  to  Westings 
House;  and  to  Barbara,  reassured  by  his  explicit 
accounts  of  her  uncle's  abounding  health,  it  meant 
such  stimulus  and  diversion  as  was  to  be  had  of 
endless,  sympathetic  talks.  The  little  group  of  four 
were  as  close  to  one  another  as  of  old,  —  yet  with  a 
difference.  The  love  and  trust  were  as  of  old,  but 
the  dividing  of  hopes  and  aims  threw  Barbara  more 
and  more  with  Doctor  John,  Mistress  Mehitable 
more  and  more  with  Doctor  Jim.    This  seemed  per- 

348 


Barbara  Ladd  349 


fectly  natural,  —  yet  it  soon  began  to  cause  a  cer- 
tain heaviness  on  Doctor  John's  part,  which  made 
his  whimsical  sallies  grow  infrequent.  It  caused,  at 
the  same  time,  a  certain  uneasiness  on  the  part  of 
Doctor  Jim ;  and  Mistress  Mehitable  was  seen  more 
than  once  with  tears  in  her  eyes,  when,  as  it  seemed 
to  Barbara,  there  was  no  very  definite  reason  for  the 
phenomenon.  And  all  these  symptoms  troubled 
Barbara.  She  grew  more  than  commonly  tender 
of  Doctor  John. 

One  day  when  she  and  Doctor  John  and  Doctor 
Jim  had  strolled  down  to  the  tavern  to  see  the  Hart- 
ford coach  come  in,  they  found  a  knot  of  eager 
listeners  gathered  about  two  horsemen  who  were 
drinking  a  pot  of  ale.  As  the  little  party  approached, 
its  members  were  pointed  out,  and  the  horsemen 
turned  to  look  at  them  with  sharp  interest.  The 
two  came  from  up  the  river,  in  the  next  county,  and 
were  on  their  way  to  join  the  Connecticut  battalions 
under  Putnam.  They  were  bitter  partisans,  and 
one  of  them  had  lost  a  brother  in  the  fighting  at 
Quebec.  To  them  it  was  of  little  account  that 
Doctor  John  was  a  good  rebel,  —  such,  in  their 
eyes,  all  good  men  were  bound  to  be.  And 
they  did  not  appreciate  the  fact  that  he  was  an 
officer  in  the  army  they  were  about  to  join.  What 
they  saw  was  simply  Doctor  Jim,  the  declared 
Tory,    shameless   and   unafraid.      They   eyed    him 


aattttV 


350  Barbara  Ladd 


with  growing  menace,  uncertain,  by  reason  of 
the  fact  that  he  was  walking  between  Barbara  and 
Doctor  John,  just  what  they  wanted  to  do. 

Presently  Doctor  Jim  swung  away  by  himself 
to  speak  to  a  lad  whose  mother  he  was  treating. 
He  was  giving  some  little  order,  when  the  two  horse- 
men, riding  up  to  him,  thrust  him  against  the  icy 
watering-trough  so  unexpectedly  that  he  fell  over 
it.  Bewildered,  and  not  understanding  that  he  had 
been  deliberately  attacked,  he  was  picking  himself 
up  in  a  sputter  of  vexation,  when  one  of  the  riders, 
a  fierce-eyed,  burly  fanatic,  reached  over  the  trough 
and  cut  at  him  viciously  with  his  riding-whip, 
exclaiming,  "  Take  that,  you  damned  Tory  dog!  " 

The  blow  missed  Doctor  Jim's  head,  but  fell 
smartly  across  his  shoulders.  The  next  moment 
a  great  hand  seized  the  rider,  tore  him  from  his  seat, 
jammed  him  furiously  against  his  horse's  rump, 
and  dashed  him  down  upon  the  dirty  snow.  Then 
Doctor  John  turned  to  deal  likewise  with  the  second 
culprit.  But  he  had  forgotten  his  wound.  He  grew 
white,  reeled,  and  would  have  fallen,  but  that  two 
of  the  Second  Westings  men  sprang  to  his  aid  and 
held  him  up. 

When  the  stroke  of  the  whip  fell  on  his  shoulders, 
Doctor  Jim  had  understood.  With  one  of  his  word- 
less explosive  roars  he  had  sprung  right  over  the 
trough  to  take  Homeric  vengeance.     But  when  he 


Barbara   Ladd  351 


saw  Doctor  John  he  forgot  all  about  vengeance,  he 
forgot  all  about  the  attack. 

"What  is  it,  John?"  he  cried,  picking  him  up 
as  if  the  huge  frame  were  a  feather,  and  carrying 
him  to  the  settee  outside  the  inn  door. 

"Nothing,  Jim,  nothing!  The  old  wound,  you 
know,  and  the  heart  not  yet  just  right,"  muttered 
Doctor  John,  recovering  quickly,  but  leaning  on  his 
brother's  shoulder.  Barbara,  meanwhile,  had  run 
to  fetch  brandy,  which  she  now  brought,  along  with 
the  landlord. 

The  two  horsemen  had  had  their  wrath  for  the 
moment  diverted  by  the  sudden  turn  of  events.  But 
now  —  the  fellow  who  had  been  so  mauled  in  Doc- 
tor John's  grip  having  remounted,  bursting  with 
rage  —  they  thought  it  time  to  return  to  the  attack, 
and  made  an  effort  to  push  through  the  little  crowd. 
Failing  in  this,  they  cursed  Doctor  Jim  with  varied 
vigour,  and  told  him  what  they  intended  to  do  when 
they  could  get  at  him.  In  their  righteous  wrath 
they  failed  to  notice  that  they  were  not  making 
themselves  popular  with  the  crowd.  Neither  Doctor 
Jim  nor  Barbara  paid  the  slightest  attention  to  their 
curses,  not  seeming  to  hear  them ;  but  Doctor  John 
attended. 

"  Lads !  "  he  said,  lifting  his  head  with  difficulty. 
"  Lads  of  Second  Westings !  Shall  we  let  these 
insolent  scoundrels  talk  to  us  that  way?  " 


352  Barbara  Ladd 


"No,  sir!  No,  sir!  No,  sir!"  shouted  a  dozen 
voices,  —  whereupon  Barbara  turned  and  beamed 
upon  them  unutterable  favour.  The  landlord,  with 
several  other  stout  fellows,  seized  the  strangers' 
bridles  and  forced  the  horses  back  toward  the  road. 

"  Ye'd  better  be  gettin'  on!"  admonished  mine 
host,  grinning  but  decisive.  "  Ye  don't  rightly  un- 
derstand us  here,  I  calculate!  Better  get  on  now, 
for  convenience !  " 

The  horsemen  seemed  to  have  forgotten  their 
wrath  in  their  astonishment. 

"  Are  you  all  Tories,  too?  "  they  found  voice  to 
demand. 

"  We're  as  good  patriots  as  ever  you  be !  "  rejoined 
mine  host,  crisply.  "  But  if  we've  got  any  Tories 
among  us  they're  our  own,  and  we'll  see  about  'em 
ourselves,  our  own  way.  Now  clear  out !  "  And  he 
hit  the  nigh  horse  a  smart  slap  on  the  rump,  making 
him  bound  forward. 

By  this  time  the  leader  and  spokesman  of  the 
twain  had  recovered  his  full  head  of  anger.  He  had 
no  quixotic  notion  of  undertaking  to  discipline 
Second  Westings  village.  But  he  conceived  a  very 
clear  purpose.  Reining  his  excited  horse  down 
violently,  he  shook  his  fist  at  the  crowd,  and  shouted  : 

"  If  you  choose  to  harbour  a  dirty  Tory,  there  be 
men  and  patriots  in  the  other  townships  who'll  come 
right  soon  an'  teach  you  yer  duty !  " 


Barbara  Ladd  353 


"  Oh,  you  clear  out !  "  jeered  the  Second  Westings 
men. 

That  evening,  at  Westings  House,  while  the  be- 
ginnings of  a  bleak  March  wind  storm  blustered  and 
whimpered  outside,  Mistress  Mehitable  brewed  a 
hot  posset  of  uncommonly  cheering  quality.  The 
cheer  was  needed;  for  all  felt  that  a  crisis  of  some 
sort,  or  some  grave  change,  was  at  hand.  Doctor 
John,  who  had  quite  recovered,  tried  in  vain  to 
make  his  fooling  sound  spontaneous.  The  grave 
eyes  of  Destiny  would  persist  in  looking  out  through 
the  jester's -mask.  At  length  Doctor  Jim  exclaimed, 
abruptly : 

"  I  must  go,  now !  I  must  take  Amos  and  slip 
away  in  the  night,  and  go  wherever  men  are  gather- 
ing to  fight  for  the  king.  I'm  not  needed  here  now, 
John,  since  you  are  back  to  take  care  of  Mehitable 
and  Barbara!  " 

It  was  what  all  had  been  waiting  for,  but  it 
came  with  a  shock  —  the  shock  of  conviction,  not 
of  surprise  —  to  all.  Mistress  Mehitable  turned 
ghost  pale,  and  unconsciously  her  hand  went  to  her 
heart.  Doctor  John  noticed  the  action,  with  sad 
eyes  that  belied  the  humour  of  his  mouth.  Barbara 
sprang  up,  rushed  over  to  Doctor  Jim,  and  flung  her 
arms  around  his  neck. 

"  Please  don't  go,  Doctor  Jim !  "  she  pleaded. 
"  This  is  the  place  for  you.     And  here  we  all  love 


354  Barbara  Ladd 


you  so  we  don't  care  what  side  you're  on.  And  as 
for  going  to  fight  for  your  side,  —  of  course,  you 
want  to,  we  all  know  that,  —  but  you  never  can  get 
through  to  the  coast.  You  can  never  get  through 
our  people.  No,  you  can't,  Doctor  Jim !  You  must 
stay  here  with  us.    Help  me  hold  him,  Aunt  Hitty !  " 

"  Jim,"  said  Doctor  John,  his  voice  trembling 
with  earnestness,  "  I  appeal  to  you  to  stay.  Don't 
break  our  hearts  by  going.  Stay  for  our  sakes. 
I  know,  brother,  how  you  feel,  —  and  believing 
as  you  do,  I  don't  blame  you,  —  I'll  never  blame 
you.  But  Barbara  is  right.  You  can',  get  through. 
You  can  stay  with  a  clear  conscience!  " 

Mistress  Mehitable,  since  becoming  assured  of 
the  attitude  of  the  Second  Westings  men,  har1  lost 
all  her  dread  of  having  him  stay,  and  gained  a  quiv- 
ering fear  of  having  him  go.  Forgetful  of  all  else, 
she  now  laid  her  slim  hand  on  his,  looked  at  him 
with  her  whole  soul  in  her  eyes,  and  said : 

"  Must  you  ?  Oh,  Jim,  are  you  so  sure  you  ought 
to  go?" 

A  faint  spasm  passed  over  Doctor  John's  face  — 
Barbara  alone  observing  it  —  and  seemed  to  leave 
it  older  and  sterner.  He  opened  his  mouth  to  speak, 
but  Doctor  Jim  was  ahead  of  him. 

"  Yes,  I  know  my  duty.  If  a  man  sees  it,  he's  got 
to  do  it,  —  eh,  what,  dearest  lady  in  the  world  ?  I 
wish  I  didn't  see  it  so  plain.     Then  I  might  stay 


Barbara   Ladd  355 


here  with  you  all,  you  whom  I  love.  But  I  see  my 
duty,  to  fight  for  the  king,  just  as  plain  as  you  saw 
yours,  John,  to  fight  for  your  damned  old  Con- 
gress !  " 

"  I'm  not  going  to  fight  any  more!  "  interrupted 
Doctor  John,  speciously. 

Doctor  Jim  laughed,  tenderly  derisive. 

"  No,  but  you're  sending,  and  equipping,  and 
supporting  two  able-bodied  substitutes,  aren't  you? 
But  another  point  is,  my  Barbara,  —  by  staying  I 
should  bring  disaster  on  you  all.  The  good  folk  of 
Second  Westings  —  and  they  are  good  folk,  though 
rebels,  alas !  —  will  never  stand  by  and  see  the  Ladds 
and  Pigeons,  whatever  their  views,  molested  by  an 
outside  world.  When  your  fiery  patriots  from  up 
the  river  come  to  ride  me  on  a  rail,  Second  Westings 
will  stand  in  the  way  and  get  its  honest  head  broken. 
You  wouldn't  do  it,  John  Pigeon!  You'd  cut  off 
your  head,  before  you'd  let  the  poor  souls  get  their 
heads  broken  for  you  in  a  cause  that  they  believe 
all  wrong.  I'd  be  a  coward  to  let  them,  John. 
Would  you  ask  me  to  be  a  coward?  " 

"  Wouldn't  be  much  use  asking,"  growled  Doctor 
John.  "  But  you're  all  wrong,  as  usual,  Jim !  " 
Then  he  turned  suddenly  to  Mistress  Mehitable,  with 
a  meaning  look. 

"  You  speak,  Mehitable !  You  make  him  stay. 
Demand  it  of  him  —  as  your  right !    Keep  him !  " 


356  Barbara  Ladd 


Doctor  Jim  searched  his  brother's  face,  first  with 
terrible  question,  then  with  the  growing  light  of  a 
great  joy.  Barbara  watched  breathless,  forgetful  of 
the  fate  of  dynasties.  Here,  she  felt,  were  problems 
that  had  held  long  lives  in  doubt,  now  working  to 
instant  solution.  Mistress  Mehitable  turned  scarlet, 
and  she,  too,  questioned  the  sombre,  tender  eyes  of 
Doctor  John.     But  she  said,  quite  simply : 

"  I'm  afraid,  John,  if  he  thinks  he  ought  to  go 
he'll  go.    But  I  do  ask  you  to  stay,  Jim." 

"Don't,  Mehitable!"  groaned  Doctor  Jim. 

"There,  what  did  I  tell  you,  John?"  she  said. 

But  now  certain  things,  uncertain  all  his  life  till 
now,  were  quite  clear  to  Doctor  John.  Slowly,  as 
if  it  hurt  him,  he  got  up.  He  went  over  to  where 
Mehitable  was  sitting,  quite  close  to  Doctor  Jim. 
He  laid  a  hand  on  each,  caressingly,  —  and  to 
Mehitable  that  touch,  suddenly  grown  bold  and  firm, 
was  a  renunciation.  He  had  never  touched  her  that 
way  before. 

"  It  is  all  right,  Jim!  It  is  all  right,  Mehitable!  " 
said  he,  in  a  very  low  but  quite  steady  voice.  "  I 
never  was  sure  till  now,  —  but  I  ought  to  have 
understood,  —  for  I  see  now  it  was  always  yours, 
Jim.  Forgive  me,  brother.  I  ought  not  to  have 
stood  in  the  way." 

"  John !  "  cried  Doctor  Jim,  catching  the  caressing 


Barbara  Ladd  357 


hand  in  a  fervent  clasp.  "  God  bless  you !  But  —  on 
my  honour  I  have  never  said  a  word !  " 

"  I  know,  Jim,  I  know.  We've  always  played  fair 
to  each  other.  But  now  you  can  speak.  And  now, 
—  you  don't  need  to  speak,  either  of  you.  Your 
faces  speak  plain  enough,  to  the  eyes  of  one  who 
loves  you  both !  " 

"  Is  it  true,  Mehitable?  After  all  these  years  that 
I've  kept  silence,  —  oh,  is  it  true?"  asked  Doctor 
Jim,  scarcely  above  a  whisper,  reaching  out  his 
hands  to  her  longingly. 

For  one  instant  she  laid  hers  in  his.  Then  she 
withdrew  them  quickly,  seized  Doctor  John's  hand  in 
both  of  hers,  laid  her  cheek  against  it,  and  burst 
into  tears. 

"  Oh,  John,  dear  John,"  she  sobbed.  "  How  can 
T  bear  that  you  should  be  unhappy  ?  " 

Doctor  John  blinked,  and  made  a  little  noise  in 
his  throat.    Then,  with  a  brave  levity,  he  exclaimed : 

"  Tut!  Tut!  Don't  you  worry  about  me,  either 
of  you,  now.  As  for  you,  Jim  Pigeon,  you  Tory 
scoundrel,  I'm  getting  the  best  of  you,  after  all. 
For  I  stay  right  here  and  take  care  of  her,  Lord 
knows  how  long,  while  you  go  off,  Lord  knows 
where,  and  get  yourself  poked  full  of  holes  for  your 
old  King  George  —  Eh,  what,  baggage?  as  Jim 
would  say !  "  And  he  turned  unexpectedly  toward 
Barbara,  who  had  been  standing  by  the  window,  and 


358  Barbara  Ladd 


peering  diligently  out  into  the  blackness  for  the  past 
ten  minutes,  —  and  surreptitiously  wiping  her  eyes 
as  well  as  her  nose. 

"  Yes,  indeed  you  do  get  the  best  of  the  bargain," 
she  cheerfully  and  mendaciously  agreed. 

Two  days  later,  in  the  dark  before  moonrise,  Doc- 
tor Jim  and  Amos  slipped  away  on  horseback  by  the 
road  to  Westings  Landing.  And  Doctor  John  went 
with  them  as  far  as  the  Landing,  to  put  them  into 
trusty  hands  for  their  night  voyage  down  the  river. 


CHAPTER   XXXII. 

A  few  days  after  Doctor  Jim's  going,  came  the 
news  that  Washington  had  entered  Boston,  the 
troops  of  the  king  having  given  up  the  defence  and 
sailed  away  to  Halifax.  Soon  afterward  there  was 
bustle  in  Second  Westings,  and  camp  talk,  and 
military  swagger:  for  a  portion  of  the  army  was 
moving"  down  to  New  York,  and  many  men  had 
leave  to  visit  their  homes  in  passing ;  and  some,  who 
had  enlisted  for  a  short  service,  had  come  home  to 
get  in  the  crops  before  reenlisting;  and  some,  grudg- 
ing souls,  had  come  home  to  stay,  saying  that  it  was 
now  the  time  for  others  to  sweat  and  bleed  for  their 
country. 

Amid  all  this  excitement,  which  had  some  effect 
even  upon  Mistress  Mehitable,  antagonistic  though 
she  was  to  it,  the  palely  brilliant  Connecticut 
spring  rushed  over  the  land  with  promise.  Never 
before,  it  seemed,  did  the  vanguards  of  the  song- 
sparrows  and  thrushes  so  crowd  the  blowing  thickets 
with  melody;  never  before  the  bright  hordes  o£ 
the  dandelions  so  suddenly  and  so  goldenly  over- 
flood  the  meadows.     But  to  Barbara  the  iridescent 

359 


360  Barbara  Ladd 


glory  was  somehow  more  sad  than  gloom.  The  fact 
that  her  cause  was  everywhere  prospering,  that  suc- 
cess had  fallen  to  the  Continental  arms  beyond  any- 
thing that  she  had  dared  to  hope,  brought  her  no 
elation.  She  felt  the  sorrow  that  had  come  into 
Doctor  John's  life  in  spite  of  the  big,  whimsical 
gaiety  with  which  he  kept  it  covered  up.  She  felt 
the  fierce  tugging  at  Mistress  Mehitable's  heart- 
strings, though  that  thoroughbred  little  lady  never 
revealed,  save  by  the  dark  eye-shadows  of  sleepless 
nights,  the  pangs  it  cost  her  to  be  deprived  in  a  day 
of  the  lover  whom  she  had  been  half  a  lifetime  in 
finding  out.  Barbara  felt,  too,  the  absence  of  Doctor 
Jim,  who  seemed  to  her  so  big  and  boyish  and  reck- 
less and  unfit  to  take  care  of  himself  that  he  could 
not  fail  to  get  into  trouble  if  not  kept  at  home  and 
mothered  by  small  women  like  herself  and  Aunt 
Hitty.  And  most  of  all  she  felt  the  crushing  uncer- 
tainty as  to  Robert. 

When  summer  was  approaching  high  tide,  Second 
Westings  grew  quiet  again,  the  soldiers  being  all 
called  back  to  their  colours  to  make  ready  the  de- 
fences of  New  York.  Then,  by  hard-riding  express 
messengers,  the  tidings  flew  over  the  country  that 
Congress  at  Philadelphia,  on  the  fourth  day  of  July, 
had  declared  independence,  and  set  up  a  republic 
to  be  known  as  the  "  United  States  of  America." 
Second  Westings  went  wild  with  enthusiasm,  and 


Barbara  Ladd  361 

that  night  there  was  a  terrific  consumption  of  old 
tar  barrels  and  dry  brush.  And  there  was  a  select 
little  dinner  at  Squire  Gillig's,  to  which  Barbara  and 
Doctor  John  felt  in  duty  bound  to  go,  —  and  from 
which  Mistress  Mehitable,  with  an  equal  devotion 
to  duty,  stayed  away.  She  had  taken  the  news 
gracefully  enough,  however,  merely  suggesting  to 
Barbara  and  Doctor  John  that  possibly  all  the  rejoic- 
ing might  turn  out  to  be  a  little  premature. 

Thereafter  it  seemed  to  Barbara  that  events  moved 
furiously,  one  piece  of  vital  news  following  close 
upon  the  heels  of  its  predecessor.  Early  in  August 
came  word  that  a  great  English  army  for  the  capture 
of  New  York  was  landing  at  Staten  Island.  Then, 
the  first  tidings  of  Robert,  —  reaching  Barbara  in  a 
letter  from  her  uncle,  whose  regiment  was  holding 
Brooklyn.  Glenowen  wrote  that  from  certain  neu- 
trals, country-folk  of  Long  Island,  who  had  no 
party  but  their  cabbage-patch,  he  had  learned  of 
both  Robert  Gault  and  Doctor  Jim.  Doctor  Jim, 
as  representing  one  of  the  oldest  and  most  distin- 
guished families  of  Connecticut,  and  himself  widely 
known,  had  been  attached  to  the  staff  of  the  English 
general,  Sir  William  Howe,  while  Robert  Gault, 
with  the  rank  of  captain,  was  in  command  of  a 
troop  of  irregular  Loyalist  Horse.  With  the  un- 
speakable relief  that  these  tidings  brought  her,  Bar- 
bara regained   for  a   few   days   her   old  vivacity, 


362  Barbara  Ladd 


imperiousness,  and  daring.  She  tore  about  the  coun- 
try wildly  as  of  old,  on  horseback,  —  no  longer,  as 
a  rule,  on  Black  Prince,  who  had  grown  too  sedate 
to  fully  fall  in  with  her  caprices,  but  on  a  fiery  young 
sorrel  which  she  had  bought  for  herself,  choosing 
it  partly  for  its  own  qualities,  and  partly  for  its 
resemblance  to  Robert's  old  Narragansett  pacer. 
She  resumed  her  canoeing  on  the  lake.  She  sang 
again  her  old  plantation  songs,  to  Doctor  John's 
accompaniment  and  Mistress  Mehitable's  diversion. 
She  put  a  new  and  gayer  ribbon  on  the  neck  of  the 
furry  "  Mr.  Grim."  She  even  remembered  that  the 
bergamot  was  in  flower,  and  set  herself  with  interest 
to  the  distilling  of  her  half-forgotten  "  Water  of 
Maryland  Memories,"  laughing  indulgently  the 
while  at  the  girlishly  sentimental  name  of  it.  Mean- 
time she  was  conscious  of  a  curiously  divided  in- 
terest in  the  war,  —  conscious  that  her  interest  was 
divided  in  a  fashion  that  would,  a  year  ago,  have 
seemed  to  her  wicked  and  impossible.  Just  as  pas- 
sionately as  ever  was  her  heart  set  upon  the  triumph 
of  her  cause.  But  she  felt  an  irrational  desire  that 
Robert  and  Doctor  Jim  should  win  each  a  splendid 
victory  on  his  own  account.  She  was  full  of  pity 
that  they  should  be  on  what  she  held  the  surely 
losing  side,  and  she  wanted  some  measure  of  glory 
to  be  theirs. 

But  the  next  news  that  came  dashed  her  spirits. 


Barbara  Ladd  363 


It  told  of  the  battle  of  Long  Island,  and  the  defeat 
of  the  Continentals  by  the  ordered  British  lines. 
It  told  of  the  panic  flight  of  patriot  regiments.  It 
told  of  General  Washington's  retreat  from  Long 
Island  and  entrenching  of  the  army  at  New  York. 
A  few  days  later  came  a  letter  to  Barbara  from  Glen- 
owen,  —  whose  regiment  had  stood  firm  and  suffered 
heavily,  —  in  which  he  said  that  he  did  not  think 
it  would  be  possible  to  hold  New  York  with  the 
troops  at  Washington's  command,  and  that  there 
would  doubtless  soon  be  a  further  retreat  to  some 
position  beyond  the  Harlem.  The  letter  made  no 
mention  of  Doctor  Jim,  —  which  caused  Barbara 
to  remind  Mistress  Mehitable  that  no  news  was  good 
news,  —  but  it  spoke  with  somewhat  bitter  praise 
of  Robert  Gault.  It  said  that  Robert's  little  squad- 
ron of  mad  Tories  had  gone  through  the  Continental 
ranks  like  flame,  irresistible  and  deadly,  and  had 
done  more  than  anything  else  to  cause  the  breaking  of 
Putnam's  lines.  Robert  had  had  his  horse  shot  under 
him,  and  his  hat  shot  off,  but  had  himself,  as  report 
said,  escaped  without  a  scratch,  though  with  a  much 
diminished  troop.  As  she  was  reading  this  out 
to  Mistress  Mehitable,  all  at  once  and  to  her  deep 
mortification  her  scrupulously  matter-of-fact  voice 
thrilled  and  broke.  Mistress  Mehitable  shot  her  a 
glance  of  swift  understanding  and  sympathy,  and 
then  pretended  that  she  had  noticed  nothing  un- 


364  Barbara  Ladd 


usual.  Barbara  coughed,  and  went  on.  But  her 
voice  had  become  unmanageable.  With  an  impa- 
tient gesture  and  a  toss  of  her  head  she  handed  over 
the  letter. 

"  You'll  have  to  read  it  yourself,  honey !  It  upsets 
me  to  hear  of  our  poor  fellows  beaten  like  this !  "  she 
cried,  hypocritically. 

"Of  course,  dear,  I  quite  understand!"  replied 
Mistress  Mehitable,  keeping  her  eyes  strictly  upon 
the  letter,  that  she  might  the  more  easily  seem  de- 
ceived. 

A  few  days  later,  Gleno wen's  prediction  was  ful- 
filled, and  the  news  that  came  to  Second  Westings 
was  of  Washington's  hasty  retreat  from  New  York 
to  the  Harlem  Heights,  leaving  his  artillery  and 
heavy  baggage  behind.  Then  for  a  month  there 
was  expectancy,  and  to  Barbara  in  her  quiet  green 
land  it  seemed  marvellous  that  the  two  armies  could 
lie  facing  each  other  in  this  way,  day  after  day,  and 
not  be  stirred  to  decisive  action.  She  wondered 
how  their  nerves  could  bear  the  strain  of  such 
waiting. 

The  bright  September  dragged  by  in  drowsy  fash- 
ion, and  October  ran  on  in  its  blue  and  golden- 
brown;  and  then  the  word  that  came  was  of  yet 
another  retreat.  The  British  had  enlarged  their  nar- 
row borders,  and  Washington  had  drawn  back  to  the 
line  of  the  Bronx,  where  he  fortified  himself  strongly 


Barbara  Ladd  365 


so  as  to  hold  the  roads  leading  inland.  Would  he 
never  stop  retreating,  questioned  Barbara,  anxiously, 
echoing  the  cry  that  went  up  all  over  the  infant 
Union.  "I  think  not,  dear!"  responded  Mistress 
Mehitable,  cheerfully.  But  Doctor  John,  who  under- 
stood the  conditions,  declared  that  this  Fabian  policy 
was  the  only  sound  one,  while  the  Continental  troops 
were  getting  seasoned  and  learning  the  arts  of  war. 
Even  while  this  teaching  was  being  digested,  came 
word  of  the  fierce  battle  of  White  Plains,  where  the 
two  armies,  in  numbers  closely  matched,  long  held 
each  other  by  the  throat  without  decisive  advantage. 
When,  two  days  later,  the  Continentals  again  with- 
drew, this  time  to  hasty  entrenchments  at  New 
Castle,  Doctor  John  had  hard  work  to  convince  Bar- 
bara that  this  long-drawn-out  and  bloody  struggle 
was  not  an  American  defeat.  For  days  thereafter 
word  kept  coming  in,  telling  of  the  losses  on  both 
sides,  and  supplying  vivid  details;  and  the  blinds 
of  mourning  were  drawn  down  in  more  than  one 
modest  Second  Westings  home.  A  brief  message 
came  from  Glenowen,  saying  that  he  was  safe  and 
well.  But  of  Doctor  Jim  no  word ;  of  Robert  not  a 
word.  And  Barbara  and  Mistress  Mehitable  durst 
not  meet  each  other's  eyes  lest  either  should  read 
therein,  and  cry  aloud,  the  fear  in  the  other's  heart. 


CHAPTER   XXXIII. 

With  the  coming  in  of  this  tumultuous  November, 
there  came  to  Second  Westings  a  few  days  of  Indian 
summer  magic.  The  moveless  air  seemed  a  distilla- 
tion of  dreams.  The  faint  azure  haze  hung  every- 
where, soft  yet  cool,  with  an  elusive  fragrance  as  of 
clean  smoke  and  fading  roses  and  fresh  earth-mould 
and  lofts  of  grain.  And  on  one  of  these  conse- 
crated days  Barbara  set  out  early  in  the  morning 
to  paddle  across  the  lake  and  see  old  Debby. 

As  on  a  morning  long  ago,  but  not  so  early,  she 
ran  down  the  bade  garden  path,  and  behind  the  barn, 
and  climbed  the  pasture  bars.  This  time  she  called 
to  Keep;  and  the  big  mastiff,  who  now  slept  later 
than  of  old,  came  somewhat  stiffly  gamboling  from 
his  manger  bed  in  the  horse  stable.  She  tripped  along 
the  pasture  path,  between  the  hillocks.  She  trod 
rapidly  the  black  earth  of  the  old  wood-road,  where 
the  shadows  were  lighter  now,  and  no  sound  broke 
the  stillness  save  the  eerie  sigh  and  footfall  of  the 
dropping  leaves.  She  launched  the  canoe  with  easy 
vigour,  motioned  Keep  to  his  place  in  the  bow,  and 
pushed  out  with  strong,  leisurely  strokes  across  the 

366 


Barbara  Ladd  367 


enchanted  mirror.  That  far-off  morning  of  her 
flight  came  back  to  her  with  strange  poignancy,  and 
she  wondered  if  the  blue  heron  would  be  standing  at 
the  outlet  to  admonish  her  with  his  enigmatic  gaze. 

As  she  approached  the  outlet,  the  point  was  vacant. 
But  suddenly  a  strange,  dishevelled  figure,  hatless, 
and  in  a  blood-stained  British  uniform,  emerged 
from  the  trees  near  by,  came  down  amid  the  tall 
yellow  grasses,  and  stood  staring  across  the  lake. 
He  stood  thus  with  blank  eyes  for  a  moment,  appar- 
ently not  seeing  the  canoe,  then  pitched  forward, 
and  lay  on  his  face  close  to  the  water's  edge. 

With  one  sharp  cry  of  his  name,  Barbara  surged 
upon  the  paddle  and  shot  the  canoe  toward  land, 
wasting  no  more  breath  on  words.  She  sprang 
ashore,  turned  the  still  form  over,  loosened  the  low 
vest  and  the  throat  of  the  shirt,  and  dashed  water 
in  the  white,  stained,  deathlike  face.  At  first  she 
thought  he  was  dead,  and  she  felt  things  growing 
black  before  her  eyes.  Then  she  caught  herself,  and 
held  herself  steady  for  the  need.  If  she  could  not 
be  strong  now,  what  right  had  she  to  call  herself 
a  woman,  or  to  love  a  man.  She  felt  at  his  heart 
and  found  that  he  was  alive.  She  saw  that  he  was 
sorely  wounded.  She  told  herself  that  he  had 
swooned  from  loss  of  blood,  weariness,  hunger,  — 
but  that  he  had  lived,  would  live,  must  live.    Then 


368  Barbara  Ladd 


she  dragged  him  further  back  into  the  grass,  where 
he  was  hidden. 

Calling  Keep  from  the  canoe,  she  sat  down  for  a 
moment  with  Robert's  head  in  her  lap,  and  planned 
what  should  be  done.  He  must  not  be  found  in 
Second  Westings,  that  she  knew.  For  an  English 
prisoner  of  war  it  would  be  all  very  well,  —  but 
for  a  Tory  it  might  be  different.  She  could  take 
no  risks.  In  a  moment  or  two  her  mind  was  made 
up.  She  bent  over,  and  kissed  the  unresponding 
mouth.  Then  she  rose,  and  turned  to  Keep,  who 
had  stood  sniffing  at  Robert's  clothes  with  sympa- 
thetic interest.  They  were  shocking  clothes,  but 
Keep  dimly  remembered  the  man  within  them.  Bar- 
bara pointed  to  the  helpless  figure,  saying : 

"  Lie  down,  Keep !  " 

And  Keep  lay  down,  with  his  muzzle  on  Robert's 
arm. 

"  Guard,  sir !  "  commanded  Barbara.  And  Keep 
rolled  upon  her  a  comprehending  and  obedient  eye. 
Then  she  pushed  off  the  canoe,  and  paddled  hastily 
down  the  river  to  fetch  old  Debby. 

During  all  these  years  since  Barbara's  interrupted 
flight,  no  one  had  really  read  her  heart,  or  been 
the  unacknowledged  recipient  of  her  confidences,  so 
fully  as  Mrs.  Debby  Blue.  Now,  when  Barbara 
arrived,  breathless,  with  great,  strained  eyes,  tears 
in  her  voice,  but  her  red  mouth  sternly  set,  the  old 


Barbara  Ladd  369 


woman  understood  with  few  words.  At  another 
time,  Barbara  would  have  been  amazed  at  this  swift 
understanding.  Now,  she  was  only  grateful  for  it. 
While  she  was  explaining,  Debby  was  rummaging 
on  shelves  and  in  boxes,  looking  for  sundry  simples 
of  her  cunning  extraction.     At  last  she  said: 

"  Don't  you  be  worried,  my  sweeting.  If  Mr. 
Robert  kin  be  cured  up,  old  Debby's  the  one  that  kin 
cure  him  up,  well  as  any  doctor  in  the  land,  not  even 
epcceptin'  Doctor  Jim.  An'  I've  got  the  place  where 
we  kin  hide  him,  too,  an'  keep  him  safe  till  he  gits 
well.  An'  now,  I'm  after  you,  Miss  Barby,  sweet- 
heart!" 

"  God  bless  your  dear,  true  heart,  Debby," 
cried  Barbara,  leading  the  way  in  hot  haste  to  the 
canoe. 

When  they  arrived  at  the  point,  Robert  was  just 
recovering  consciousness,  in  a  dazed  fashion.  They 
saw  him  make  an  effort  to  sit  up;  and  they  saw 
Keep,  who  was  nothing  if  not  literal  in  his  interpre- 
tation of  Barbara's  commands,  put  his  two  huge 
fore  paws  on  Robert's  breast  and  firmly  push  him 
down  again.  The  tears  jumped  to  Barbara's  eyes 
at  this,  and  she  gave  a  little  hysterical  laugh,  ex- 
claiming : 

"  Just  look  at  that,  Debby!  Good  dear  old  Keep! 
Even  he  knows  that  Robert  must  be  kept  hidden ! ,J> 


370  Barbara  Ladd 


When  they  got  to  him,  he  sat  up  determinedly,  and 
recognised  Barbara  with  a  look  of  utter  content. 

"  You,  my  lady !  I  have  come  a  very  long  way 
to  look  —  "  and  then  he  sank  off  again,  falling  back 
into  Barbara's  supporting  arms. 

"  Why,  he's  starved,  that's  what  he  is ! "  exclaimed 
Debby,  examining  him  critically  and  feeling  his 
pulse.  "  An'  he's  lost  pretty  nigh  all  the  blood  was 
ever  in  him.  An'  he's  got  two  wounds  here,  either 
one  enough  to  do  for  a  man !  " 

She  forced  some  fiery  liquor  down  his  throat, 
and  then,  as  a  faint  colour  came  back  to  his  lips, 
she  gave  him  to  drink  from  a  bottle  of  milk.  He 
drank  eagerly,  but  automatically,  without  opening 
his  eyes. 

"  He's  been  wounded  at  Wnite  Plains,  poor 
dear !  "  murmured  Barbara,  leaning  over  him  a  face 
of  brooding  tenderness. 

"  An'  he's  wandered  all  the  way  up  here,  a-lookin' 
for  you,  Miss  Barby !  "  responded  the  old  woman. 

"Do  you  really  think  so?"  murmured  Barbara. 

"No  manner  of  doubt!"  said  old  Debby,  posi- 
tively, as  she  set  about  dressing  and  binding  Robert's 
wounds. 

In  a  little  while  Robert  wfts  able  to  sit  up  again ; 
and  then  to  be  helped  to  his  feet;  and  then  to  be 
half  guided,  half  carried  to  the  canoe.  There  he 
was  placed  on  a  bed  of  heaped  armfuls  of  dry  grass. 


'  *m 


He  sank  off  again,  falling  back  into  Barbara's 
supporting  arms. 


Barbara  Ladd  371 

Old  Debby  squatted  precariously  in  the  bow,  —  she 
was  more  at  home  in  a  punt  than  in  a  canoe,  —  and 
Barbara  thrust  out  from  shore,  heading  down  the 
little  river. 

Robert  was  still  too  far  gone  in  exhaustion  to 
explain  his  strange  appearance  at  Second  Westings, 
or  to  ask  any  questions,  or  to  care  where  he  was 
going,  so  long  as  he  was  able  to  open  his  eyes  every 
once  in  awhile  and  look  at  Barbara.  When  he 
did  so,  Barbara  would  smile  back  reassuringly,  and 
lay  a  slim  brown  finger  on  her  lips,  as  a  sign  that 
he  was  not  to  talk.  And  happily  he  would  close  his 
eyes  again. 

Barbara  paddled  down  past  Debby's  landing,  past 
the  ducks  and  hens  and  turkeys,  now  too  lazy  to 
make  more  than  casual  comment.  Keep,  meanwhile, 
followed  anxiously  along  the  shore,  close  to  the 
edge,  and  now  and  then  splashing  in  belly  deep. 

"How  far  is  it,  Debby  dear?"  asked  Barbara, 
presently. 

"  Jest  a  little  mite  furder,"  answered  the  old 
woman,  who  relished  the  situation  immensely.  "  A 
matter  of  half  a  mile,  maybe!  " 

And  so  they  slipped  noiselessly  on,  in  that  en- 
chanted light,  over  that  enchanted  water  with  its 
reflections  of  amber  and  blue.  Some  crows,  grown 
suddenly    garrulous   over    private    matters,    cawed 


372  Barbara  Ladd 


pleasantly  in  the  pine-tops  a  little  way  off  against  the 
sky,  and  then  subsided  again  into  silence. 

On  both  banks  of  the  stream  the  trees  held  out 
their  leaves,  russet  and  gold,  amethyst  and  bronze 
and  scarlet,  like  so  many  little  elfin  hands  attesting 
that  all  fair  dreams  come  true  at  last  for  those  who 
have  the  key  to  the  inner  mysteries. 

Barbara  was  paddling  in  a  dream  herself,  when 
suddenly  old  Debby  said,  "  Turn  in  here,  my  sweet- 
ing!   Here  to  your  right!  " 

"  But  where?  "  asked  Barbara,  puzzled.  "  I  don't 
see  any  place  to  turn  in !  " 

"  Straight  through  them  dripping  branches 
yonder  by  the  water-logged  stump !  "  directed  the 
old  woman.     "  Straight  on  through !  " 

As  the  prow  of  the  canoe  came  up  to  what  was 
seemingly  the  shore,  old  Debby  parted  the  branches. 
As  the  canoe  pushed  onward,  she  continued  this 
process,  —  and  a  few  feet  in  from  the  main  stream 
they  entered  a  long,  narrow  deadwater,  deep  and 
clear,  and  perfectly  hidden  from  the  world.  It 
was  perhaps  a  hundred  yards  in  length,  slightly 
winding;  and  at  its  head,  on  a  gentle  rise,  stood  a 
little  deserted  log  cabin. 

"Oh,  Debby!"  cried  Barbara.  "How  did  you 
ever  find  such  a  place  ?  " 

"  It's  been  empty  this  ten  year !  "  answered  Debby. 
"An'  folks  has  forgotten,  that  ever  knowed.     An' 


Barbara  Ladd  373 


I've  been  keepin'  it  to  myself,  when  I  wanted  to 
get  away  from  the  ducks  an'  hens  a  mite.  An'  I've 
kep'  it  from  fallin'  to  pieces.  I'll  nurse  Master 
Robert  here  till  he's  able  to  get  away,  if  it  takes  a 
year.  An'  I'll  come  back  and  forward  in  my  punt. 
There's  a  bunk  ready  now,  full  of  pine-needles ;  an' 
when  we  get  him  into  it  we'll  go  back  to  make  it  all 
right  with  Aunt  Hitty.  Aint  I  got  a  head  on  my 
old  shoulders,  now,  Miss  Barby?" 

Even  as  Debby  had  so  swiftly  and  fully  planned, 
it  was  done.  Robert  was  still  so  far  gone  in  exhaus- 
tion, and  so  wandering  in  his  mind,  that  Barbara 
would  not  let  him  talk;  and  before  they  left  him 
—  with  Keep  an  incorruptible  sentry  at  the  door  — 
he  had  fallen  into  a  deep  sleep.  When  they  returned 
a  couple  hours  later,  he  was  awake  and  quite  clear, 
and  so  determined  to  talk  that  Barbara  could  not  but 
let  him.  He  sat  up  in  the  bunk,  but  Barbara,  bending 
shining  eyes  down  close  to  his,  laid  him  back  upon 
the  pillow. 

"  Debby  says  you  must  not  sit  up  at  all,  Robert !  " 
she  said. 

"  And  what  do  you  say,  my  lady?  "  he  asked,  de- 
vouring her  radiant  dark  face  with  his  eyes. 

"  I  say  so,  too !  "  she  answered,  laughing  softly. 

"  Why,  my  lady  ?  "  he  persisted. 

"  Because  it  will  hinder  you  getting  well,  Silly !  " 
she  replied,  touching  his  hair  with  cool  fingers. 


374  Barbara  Ladd 


"  What  matter  about  a  '  damned  Tory '  getting 
well?"  he  began,  being  very  weak  and  foolish. 
But  the  slim  hand  sweetly  closed  his  mouth. 

"How  did  you  get  here  —  to  me?"  Barbara- 
asked,  changing  the  subject. 

He  smiled  up  at  her. 

"  We  charged  through  the  rebels !  "  he  explained, 
frankly.  "  We  cut  them  down,  and  scattered  them, 
and  chased  them  till  we  were  within  the  enemy's 
lines.  Then  we  could  not  get  back.  They  sur- 
rounded us.  They  overwhelmed  us.  We  were  anni- 
hilated. I  escaped,  I  shall  never  know  how,  hatless 
and  horseless,  as  you  found  me,  my  lady.  I  tried 
to  get  back  to  my  regiment.  It  was  no  use.  Then, 
somehow,  a  spirit  in  my  feet  led  me  back  here,  to 
you.  I  just  escaped  capture  a  score  of  times.  I 
had  nothing  to  eat  for  days,  save  roots  and  leaves. 
I  remember  coming  to  the  shore  of  the  dear  lake, 
and  straining  my  eyes  across  it,  to  see  the  chimneys 
of  the  house  where  my  love  lay.  Then  I  saw  no 
more,  knew  no  more,  till  I  saw  my  love  herself  in 
very  truth,  leaning  her  face  over  mine.  And  I 
thought  I  was  in  heaven,  my  lady." 

"  You  still  love  me,  Robert,  after  the  hideous  way 
I  treated  you?  "  questioned  Barbara,  her  voice  a  little 
tremulous. 

He  started  again  to  sit  up ;  but  being  again  sup- 


Barbara  Ladd  375 

pressed,  was  fain  to  content  himself  with  clutching 
both  her  hands  to  his  lips. 

"  There  is  nothing  in  the  world  but  you,  Barbara," 
he  said.  "  There  is  nothing  I  want  but  you,  wonder- 
ful one!" 

"  Then  —  you  may  take  me,  Robert,  I  think !  "  she 
whispered,  dropping  her  face,  and  brushing  his  lips 
with  her  hair. 

"  Me?  "  he  cried,  in  a  voice  suddenly  strong,  glad, 
and  incredulous.  "  Me  ?  Sick  near  to  death,  hunted 
near  to  death,  a  beaten  and  fleeing  enemy,  a  Tory? 
I  may  take  you,  my  queen,  my  beloved  ?  " 

"  Whatever  you  are,  dear,  I  have  found  that  you 
are  my  love,"  she  answered.  "  I  don't  care  much 
what  you  are,  so  long  as  you  are  mine.  I  find  I  am 
just  a  woman,  Robert  —  and  in  my  conceit  I  thought 
myself  something  more.  I  love  my  country,  truly. 
But  I  love  my  lover  more.  I  shall  not  ask  you 
whether  you  bow  to  King  or  to  Congress,  —  but 
only  ask  you  to  get  well !  " 

He  reached  up  both  arms,  and  slowly  pulled  down 
her  still  averted  face  till  it  was  close  to  his.  Then 
she  turned  her  face  suddenly  to  him,  and  her  lips 
met  his.  A  moment  later  she  untwined  his  arms, 
went  to  the  door,  and  glanced  unheeding  down  at 
old  Debby,  gathering  wood.  Then,  her  face  and 
eyes  still  glowing,  she  came  back,  smoothed  his  hair, 
kissed  him  lightly  on  the  forehead,  and  said,  "  Now 


376  Barbara  Ladd 


you  must  be  quiet,  dear.  Debby  will  scold  me  if 
I  let  you  talk  any  more!  " 

But  Robert  was  excited,  drunk  with  new  joy  after 
iong  despair. 

"  Just  one  word,  and  I  will  obey,  dear  heart ! 
Listen,  my  lady.  I  will  draw  sword  no  more  in  this 
quarrel.  I  have  given  my  blood,  my  lands,  —  I  have 
given,  as  I  thought,  my  love,  —  for  a  cause  already 
lost,  for  a  cause  that  I  felt  to  be  wrong  from  the 
day  of  Lexington,  But  whichever  side  wins,  I  will 
stay  in  my  own  country,  if  my  country,  when  it  is 
all  over,  will  let  me  stay.  When  I  am  well  enough 
to  go  away  —  love,  love,  will  you  go  with  me,  to 
return,  when  the  fighting  and  the  fury  cease,  to  our 
own  dear  river  and  our  own  dear  woods?  " 

"  Yes,  you  know  I  will,  Robert,''  answered  Bar- 
bara, kneeling  down  and  looking  into  his  eyes. 
"  You  know  that  is  what  I  am  planning,  dear  one. 
Now  go  to  sleep,  and  get  well,  and  take  me  away 
when  you  will !  "  And  holding  her  hand  against  his 
neck  he  forthwith  went  to  sleep,  like  a  child,  tired 
and  contented. 

Barbara  knelt  for  a  long  time  unmoving,  her 
hand  warm  in  his  weak  clasp,  and  was  grateful  to 
old  Debby  for  staying  so  long  away.  As  she  knelt, 
the  side  of  her  face  to  the  door,  she  heard  a  soft 
thud,  thud  on  the  threshold,  and  looked  around  out 
of  the  corners  of  her  eyes  without  turning  her  head. 


Barbara  Ladd  377 


She  saw  two  wild  rabbits,  filled  with  curiosity  at 
finding  the  cabin  door  open.  They  hopped  in  warily, 
and  went  bounding  all  about  the  room,  sniffing  with 
their  sensitive,  cleft  nostrils;  waving  their  ears 
back  and  forth  at  every  faint  whisper;  and  from 
time  to  time  sitting  up  to  ponder  their  discovery. 
One  of  them  bounded  over  Barbara's  little  foot, 
turned  to  examine  it,  and  nibbled  tentatively  at  the 
heel  of  her  shoe  till  she  had  to  make  the  muscles 
tense  to  keep  him  from  pulling  it  off.  Then,  standing 
up  together  for  a  moment,  they  seemed  to  take  coun- 
sel and  conclude  that  they  had  business  elsewhere.  As 
they  hopped  lazily  away  from  the  door,  Barbara  got 
up  and  followed  to  look  after  them.  The  wonderful 
day  was  drawing  to  its  close;  and  long,  straight 
beams  of  rosy  gold,  enmeshed  with  the  haze,  were 
streaming  through  the  trees  to  her  very  feet.  She 
laughed  a  little  happy  laugh  under  her  breath. 
Those  bright  paths  leading  to  the  sun  seemed  a  fair 
omen. 


THE  END. 


A  FEW  OF 

GROSSET   &   DUNLAP'S 
Great  Books  at  Little  Prices 

NEW,  CLEVER,  ENTERTAINING. 

GRET:  The  Story  of  a  Pagan.  By  Beatrice  Mantle.  Illustrated 
by  C.  M.  Relyea. 
The  wild  free  life  of  an  Oregon  lumber  camp  furnishes  the  setting  for  this 
stroiig  original  story.  Gret  is  the  daughter  of  the  camp  and  is  utterly  con- 
tent with  the  wild  life— until  love  comes.  A  fine  book,  unmarred  by  con- 
vention. 

OLD  CHESTER  TALES.  By  Margaret  Deland.  Illustrated 
by  Howard  Pyle. 

A  vivid  yet  delicate  portrayal  of  characters  in  an  old  New  England  town. 

Dr.  Lavendar's  fine,  kindly  wisdom  is  brought  to  bear  upon  the  lives  of 
all,  permeating  the  whole  volume  like  the  pungent  odor  of  pine,  healthful 
and  life  giving.  "  Old  Chester  Tales  "  will  surely  be  among  the  books  that 
abide. 

THE  MEMOIRS  OF  A  BABY.    By  Josephine  Daskam.    Illus- 
trated by  F.  Y.  Cory. 
The  dawning  intelligence  of  the  baby  was  grappled  with  by  its  great  aunt, 
an  elderly  maiden,  whose  book  knowledge  cfbabies  was  something  at  which 
even  the  infant  himself  winked.     A  delicious  bit  of  humor. 

REBECCA  MARY.  By  Annie  Hamilton  Donnell.  Illustrated 
by  Elizabeth  Shipp  en  Green. 

The  heart  tragedies  of  this  little  girl  with  no  one  near  to  share  them,  are 
told  with  a  delicate  art,  a  keen  appreciation  of  the  needs  of  the  childish 
heart  and  a  humorous  kno  wledge  of  the  workings  of  the  childish  mind. 
THE  FLY  ON  THE  WHEEL.    By  Katherine  Cecil  Thurston. 
Frontispiece  by  Harrison  Fisher. 

An  Irish  story  of  real  power,  perfect  in  development  and  showing  a  true 
conception  of  ttie  spirited  Hibernian  character  as  displayed  in  the  tragic  as 
well  as  the  tender  phases  of  life. 

THE  MAN  FRO  M  BRODNEY'S.  By  George  Barr  McCutcheon. 
Illustrated  by  Harrison  Fisher. 

An  island  in  the  South  Sea  is  the  setting  for  this  entertaining  tale,  and 
an  ali-conquei-ing  hero  and  a  beautiful  princess  figure  in  a  most  complicated 
plot.    One  of  Mr.  McCutcheon's  best  books. 

TOLD  BY  UNCLE  REMUS.  By  Joel  Chandler  Harris.  Illus. 
trated  by  A.  B.  Frost,  J.  M.  Conde  and  Frank  Verbeck. 

Again  Uncle  Remus  enters  the   fields  of   childhood,  and  leads  another 
little  boy  to  that  non-locatable   land  called   "Brer    Rabbit's   Laughing 
Place,"  and  again  the  quaint  animals  spring  into  active  life  and  play  their 
parts,  for  the  edification  of  a  small  but  appreciative  audience. 
THE  CLIMBER.     By  E.  F.  Benson.     With  frontispiece. 

An  unsparing  analysis  of  an   ambitious   woman's  soul— a  woman  who 

believed  that  in  social  supremacy  she  would  find  happiness,  and  who  finds 

instead  the  utter  despair  of  one  who  has  chosen  the  things  that   pass  away. 

LYNCH'S  DAUGHTER    By  Leonard  Merrick.     Illustrated  by 

Geo.  Brehm. 

A  story  of  to-day,  telling  how  a  rich  girl  acquires  ideals  of  beautiful  and 
simple  living,  and  of  men  and  love,  quite  apart  from  the  teachings  of  her 
father,  "  Old  Man  Lynch  "  of  Wall  St.    True  to  life,  clever  in  treatment. 

Grosset  &  Dunlap,  526  West  26th  St.,  New  York 


I— — — 


GROSSET  &  DUNLAP'S 

DRAMATIZED  NOVELS 

A  Few  that  are  Making  Theatrical  History 

MARY  JANE'S  PA,  By  Norman  Way  Illustrated  with  scenes 
from  the  play. 
Delightful,  irresponsible  *  Mary  Tane's  Pa "  awakes  one  morning  to  find 
himself  famous,  and,  genius  being  ill  adapted  to  domestic  ioys,  he  wanders 
from  home  to  work  out  his  own  unique  destiny.  One  of  the  most  numorous 
bits  of  recent  fiction. 

CHERUB  DEVINK    By  Sewell  Ford. 

w  Cherub,"  a  good  hearted  but  not  over  refined  young  man  is  brought  in 
touch  with  the  aristocracy.  Of  sprightly  wit,  he  is  sometimes  a  merciless 
analyst,  but  he  proves  in  the  end  that  manhood  counts  for  more  than  anci- 
ent lineage  by  winning  the  love  of  the  fail  est  girl  in  the  flock. 

A  WOMAN'S  WAY.    By  Charles  Somerville.    Illustrated  with 
scenes  from  the  play. 
A  story  in  which  a  woman's  wit  and  self-sacrificing  love  save  her  husband 
from  the  toils  of  an  adventuress,  and  change  an  apparently  tragic  situation 
into  one  of  delicious  comedy. 

THE  CLIMAX.    By  George  C.  Jonks. 

With  ambition  luring  her  on,  a  young  choir  soprano  leaves  the  little  village 
where  she  was  born  and  the  limited  audience  of  St.  Jude's  to  train  ior  the 
opera  in  New  York.  She  leaves  love  bchinc1  her  andmeets  love  more  ardent 
but  not  more  sincere  in  her  new  environment.  How  she  works,  how  she 
studies,  how  she  suffers,  are  vividly  portrayed. 

A  FOOL  THERE  WAS.     By  Porter  Emerson  Browne.     Illus- 
trated by  Edmund  Magrath  and  W.  W.  Fawcett. 

A  relentless  portrayal  of  the  career  of  a  man  ./ho  comes  under  the  influence 
of  a  beautiful  but  evil  woman ;  how  she  lures  him  on  and  on,  how  he 
struggles,  falls  and  rises,  only  to  fall  again  into  her  net,  make  a  story  of 
unflinching  realism, 

THE  SQUAW   MAN.     By  Julie  Opp  Faversham  and  Ed\vin 
Milton  Royle.    Illustrated  with  scenes  from  the  play. 
A  glowing  story,  rapid  in  action,  bright  in  dialogue  with  a  fine  courageous 
hero  and  a  beautiful  English  heroine. 

THE  GIRL  IN  WAITING.     By  Archibald  Eyre.     Illustrated 
with  scenes  from  the  play. 

A  droll  little  comedy  of  misunderstandings,  told  with  a  light  touch,  a  ven- 
turesome spirit  and  an  eye  for  human  oddities. 

THE   SCARLET   PIMPERNEL,     By  Baroness  Orczy,    Illus- 
trated with  scenes  from  the  play. 
A  realistic  story  of  the  days  of  the  French  Revolution,  abounding  in 
dramatic  incident,  with  a  young  English  soldier  of  fortune,  daring,  mysteri- 
ous as  the  hero, 

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CY  WHITTAKER'S  PLACE.     By  Joseph  C.  Lincoln. 
Illustrated  by  Wallace  Morgan. 
A  Cape  Cod  story  describing  the  amusing  efforts  of  an  el- 
derly bachelor  and  his  two  cronies  to  rear  and  educate  a  little 
girl.     Full  of  honest  fun — a  rural  drama. 

THE  FORGE  IN  THE  FOREST.     By  Charles  G.  D. 
Roberts.     Illustrated  by  H.  Sandham. 

A  story  of  the  conflict  in  Acadia  after  its  conquest  by  the 
British.  A  dramatic  picture  that  lives  and  shines  with  the  in- 
definable charm  of  poetic  romance. 

A  SISTER  TO  EVANGELINE.      By   Charles  G.  D. 
Roberts.     Illustrated  by  E.  McConnell. 

Being  the  story  of  Yvonne  de  Lamourie,  and  how  she  went 
into  exile  with  the  villagers  of  Grand  Pre.  ^  Swift  action, 
fresh  atmosphere,  wholesome  purity,  deep  passion  and  search- 
ing analysis  characterize  this  strong  novel. 

THE  OPENED  SHUTTERS.     By  Clara  Louise  Burn- 
ham.     Frontispiece  by  Harrison  Fisher. 

A  summer  haunt  on  an  island  in  Casco  Bay  is  the  back* 
ground  for  this  romance.  A  beautiful  woman,  at  discord  with 
life,  is  brought  to  realize,  by  her  new  friends,  that  she  may 
open  the  shutters  of  her  soul  to  the  blessed  sunlight  of  joy  by 
casting  aside  vanity  and  self  love.  A  delicately  humorous 
work  with  a  lofty  motive  underlying  it  all. 
THE  RIGHT  PRINCESS.    By  Clara  Louise  Burnham. 

An  amusing  story,  opening  at  a  fashionable  Long  Island  re- 
sort, where  a  stately  Englishwoman  employs  a  forcible  New 
England  housekeeper  to  serve  in  her  interesting  home.  How 
types  so  widely  apart  react  on  each  others'  lives,  all  to  ulti< 
mate  good,  makes  a  story  both  humorous  and  rich  in  sentiment 
THE  LEAVEN  OF  LOVE.  By  Clara  Louise  Burn, 
ham.    Frontispiece  by  Harrison  Fisher. 

At  a  Southern  California  resort  a  world-weary  woman,  young 
and  beautiful  but  disillusioned,  meets  a  girl  who  has  learned 
the  art  of  living— of  tasting  life  in  all  its  richness,  opulence,  and 
joy.  The  story  hinges  upon  the  change  wrought  in  the  sou5 
of  the  blase  woman  by  this  glimpse  into  a  cheery  life. 

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THE  MUSIC  MASTER.  By  Charles  Klein.  Illustrated 
by  John  Rae. 
This  marvelously  vivid  narrative  turns  upon  the  search  of  a  Ger-' 
jnan  musician  in  JNew  York  for  his  little  daughter.  Mr.  Klein  has 
well  portrayed  his  pathetic  struggle  with  poverty,  his  varied  expe- 
riences in  endeavoring  to  meet  the  demands  of  a  public  not  trained 
to  an  appreciation  of  the  classic,  and  his  final  great  hour  when,  in 
the  rapidly  shifting  events  of  a  big  city,  his  little  daughter,  now  a 
beautifnl  young  woman,  is  brought  to  his  very  door.  A  superb  bit 
of  fiction,  palpitating  with  the  life  or  the  great  metropolis.  Th? 
play  in  which  David  Warn  eld  scored  his  highest  success. 

DR.  LAVENDAR'S  PEOPLE.  By  Margaret  Deland. 
Illustrated  by  Lucius  Hitchcock. 
Mrs.  Deland  won  so  many  friends  through  Old  Chester  Tales 
that  this  volume  needs  no  introduction  bej^ond  its  title.  The  lova- 
ble doctor  is  more  ripened  in  this  later  book,  and  the  simple  come- 
dies and  tragedies  of  the  old  village  are  told  with  dramatic  charm. 

OLD  CHESTER  TALES.  By  Margaret  Deland.  Illustrated 
by  Howard  Pyle. 
Stories  portraying  with  delightful  humor  and  pathos  a  quaint  peo- 
ple in  a  sleepy  old  town.  Dr.  Lavendar,  a  very  human  and  lovable 
"preacher,"  is  the  connecting  link  between  these  dramatic  stories 
from  life. 

HE  FELL  IN  LOVE  WITH  HIS  WIFE.    By  E.  P.  Roe. 
With  frontispiece. 

The  hero  is  a  farmer— a  man  with  honest,  sincere  views  of  life. 
Beieft  of  his  wife,  his  home  is  cared  for  by  a  succession  of  domes- 
tics of  varying  degrees  of  inefficiency  until,  from  a  most  unpromis' 
ing  source,  comes  a  young  woman  who  not  only  becomes  his  wife 
but  commands  his  respect  and  eventually  wins  his  love.  A  bright 
and  delicate  romance,  revealing  on  both  sides  a  love  that  surmounts 
all  difficulties  and  survives  the  censure  of  friends  as  well  as  the  bit- 
terness of  enemies. 
THE  YOKE.    By  Elizabeth  Miller. 

Against  the  historical  background  of  the  days  when  the  childrer 
of  Israel  were  delivered  from  the  bondage  of  Egypt,  the  author  hai. 
sketched  a  romance  of  compelling  charm.  A  biblical  novel  as  great 
as  any  since  "  Ben  Hur." 

SAUL  OF  TARSUS.  By  Elizabeth  Miller.  Illustrated  by 
Andre*  Castaigne. 
The  scenes  of  this  story  are  laid  in  Jerusalem,  Alexandria,  Rome 
and  Damascus.  The  Apostle  Paul,  the  Martyr  Stephen,  Herod 
Agrippa  and  the  Emperors  Tiberius  and  Caligula  are  among  the 
mighty  figures  that  move  through  the  pages.  Wonderful  descrip- 
tions, and  a  love  story  of  the  purest  and  noblest  type  mark  this 
most  remarkable  religious  romance. 

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QUINCY    ADAMS    SAWYER.      A  Picture  of  New 
England  Home  Life.     With  illustrations  by  C.  W, 
Reed,  and  Scenes  Reproduced  from  the  Play. 
One  of  the  best  New  England  stones  ever  written.     It  is 
full  of  homely  human  interest  *  *  *  there  is  a  wealth  of  New 
England  village  character,  scenes  and  incidents  *  *  *  forcibly, 
vividiy   and  truthfully  drawn.     Few  books  have   enjoyed  a 
greater  sale  and  popularity.     Dramatized,  it  made  the  great- 
est rural  play  of  recent  times. 

THE    FURTHER    ADVENTURES    OF    QUINCY 
ADAMS   SAWYER.     By   Charles   Felton    Pidgin. 
Illustrated  by  Henry  Roth. 
All  who  love  honest  sentiment,  quaint  and   sunny  humor, 
and  homespun  philosophy  will  find  these  "  Further  Adven- 
tures" a  book  after  their  own  heart. 

HALF  A  CHANCE.  By  Frederic  S.  Isham.  Illus- 
trated by  Herman  Pfeifer. 
The  thrill  of  excitement  will  keep  the  reader  in  a  state  of 
suspense,  and  he  will  become  personally  concerned  from  the 
start,  as  to  the  central  character,  a  very  real  man  who  suffers, 
dares — and  achieves ! 

VIRGINIA    OF    THE    AIR    LANES.     By    Herbert 

Quick.     Illustrated  by  William  R.  Leigh. 
The  author  has  seized  the  romantic  moment  for  the  airship 
novel,  and  created  the  pretty  story  of  "  a  lover  and  his  lass  'v 
contending  with  an  elderly  relative  for  the  monopoly  of  the 
skies.    An  exciting  tale  of  adventure  in  midair. 

THE  GAME  AND  THE  CANDLE.  By  Eleanor  M. 
Ingram.  Illustrated  by  P.  D.  Johnson. 
The  hero  is  a  young  American,  who,  to  save  his  family  from 
poverty,  deliberately  commits  a  felony.  Then  follow  his  cap* 
ture  and  imprisonment,  and  his  rescue  by  a  Russian  Grand 
Duke.     A  stirring  story,  rich  in  sentiment. 

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BRUVVER  JIM'S  BABY.     By  Philip  Verrill  Mighels. 

An  uproariously  funny  story  of  a  tiny  mining  settlement  in  the 
West,  which  is  shaken  to  the  very  roots  by  the  sudden  possession 
of  a  baby,  found  on  the  plains  by  one  of  its  residents.  The  town  is 
as  disreputable  a  spot  as  the  gold  fever  was  ever  responsible  for, 
and  the  coming  of  that  baby  causes  the  upheaval  of  every  rooted 
tradition  of  the  place.  Its  christening,  the  problems  of  its  toys  and 
its  illness  supersede  in  the  minds  of  the  miners  all  thought  of  earthy 
treasure. 

THE  FURNACE  OF  GOLD.  By  Philip  Verrill  Mighels, 
author  of  "Bruvver  Jim's  Baby."  Illustrations  by  J.  N- 
Marchand. 

An  accurate  and  informing  portrayal  of  scenes,  types,  and  condi- 
tions of  the  mining  districts  in  modern  Nevada. 

The  book  is  an  out-door  story,  clean,  exciting,  exemplifying  no- 
bility and  courage  of  character,  and  bravery,  and  heroism  in  the  sort 
of  men  and  women  we  all  admire  and  wish  to  know. 
THE  MESSAGE.     By  Louis  Tracy.  Illustrations  by  Joseph 
C.  Chase. 

A  breezy  tale  of  how  a  bit  of  old  parchment,  concealed  in  a  figure- 
head from  a  sunken  vessel,  comes  into  the  possession  of  a  pretty 
girl  and  an  army  man  during  regatta  week  in  the  Isle  of  Wight. 
This  is  the  message  and  it  enfolds  a  mystery,  the  development  of 
which  the  reader  will  follow  with  breathless  interest. 

THE  SCARLET  EMPIRE.  By  David  M.  Parry.  Illus- 
trations by  Hermann  C.  Wall. 

A  young  socialist,  weary  of  life,  plunges  into  the  sea  and  awakes 
In  the  lost  island  of  Atlantis,  known  as  the  Scarlet  Empire,  where 
a  social  democracy  is  in  full  operation,  granting  every  man  a  living 
but  limiting  food,  conversation,  education  and  marriage. 

The  hero  passes  through  an  enthralling  love  affair  and  other  ad- 
ventures but  finally  returns  to  his  own  New  York  world. 

THE  THIRD  DEGREE.  By  Charles  Klein  and  Arthur 
Hornblow.     Illustrations  by  Clarence  Rowe. 

A  novel  which  exposes  the  abuses  in  this  country  of  the  police 
eystem. 

The  son  of  an  aristocratic  New  York  family  marries  a  woman 
socially  beneath  him,  but  of  strong,  womanly  qualities  that,  latei 
©n,  save  the  man  from  the  tragic  consequences  of  a  dissipated  life. 

The  wife  believes  in  his  innocence  and  her  wit  and  good  sense 
help  her  to  win  against  the  tremendous  odds  imposed  by  law. 

THE  THIRTEENTH  DISTRICT.  By  Brand  Whitlock. 
A  realistic  western  story  of  love  and  politics  and  a  searching  study 
of  their  influence  on  character.  The  author  shows  with  extraordi- 
nary vitality  of  treatment  the  tricks,  the  heat,  the  passion,  the  tu- 
mult of  the  political  arena  the  triumph  and  strength  of  love, 

Ghosset  &  Dunlap,  526  West  26th  St.,  New  York 


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GROSSET   &    DUNLAP'S 
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HAPPY  HAWKINS.  By  Robert  Alexander  Wason.  Illus- 
trated  by  Howard  Giles. 
A  ranch  and  cowboy  novel.  Happy  Hawkins  tells  his  own  story 
with  such  a  fine  capacity  for  knowing  how  to  do  it  and  with  so  much 
humor  that  the  reader's  interest  is  held  in  surprise,  then  admiration 
and  at  last  in  positive  affection. 

COMRADES.    By  Thomas  Dixon,  Jr.    Illustrated  by  C.  D. 
Williams. 

The  locale  of  this  story  is  in  California,  where  a  few  socialists 
establish  a  little  community. 

The  author  leads  the  little  band  along  the  path  of  disillusion- 
ment, and  gives  some  brilliant  flashes  of  light  on  one  side  of  an 
important  question. 
TONO-BUNGAY.    By  Herbert  George  Wells. 

The  hero  of  this  novel  is  a  young  man  who,  through  hard  work, 
earns  a  scholarship  and  goes  to  London. 

Written  with  a  frankness  verging  on  Rousseau's,  Mr.  Wells  still 
uses  rare  discrimination  and  the  border  line  of  propriety  is  never 
crossed.    An  entertaining  book  with  both  a  story  and  a  moral,  and 
without  a  dull  page — Mr.  Wells's  most  notable  achievement. 
A  HUSBAND  BY  PROXY.    By  Jack  Steele. 

A  young  criminologist,  but  recently  arrived  in  New  York  city, 
is  drawn  into  a  mystery,  partly  through  financial  need  and  partly 
through  his  interest  in  a  beautiful  woman,  who  seems  at  times  the 
simplest  child  and  again  a  perfect  mistress  of  intrigue.  A  baffling 
detective  story. 

LIKE  ANOTHER  HELEN.    By  George   Horton.    Illus- 
trated by  C.  M.  Relyea. 

Mr.  Horton's  powerful  romance  stands  in  a  new  field  and  brings 
an  almost  unknown  world  in  reality  before  the  reader — the  world 
of  conflict  between  Greek  and  Turk  on  the  Island  of  Crete.  The 
"  Helen  "  of  the  story  is  a  Greek,  beautiful,  desolate,  defiant — pure 
as  snow. 

There  is  a  certain  new  force  about  the  story,  a  kind  of  master- 
craftsmanship  and  mental  dominance  that  holds  the  reader. 

THE     MASTER    OF    APPLEBY.     By    Francis    Lynde. 
Illustrated  by  T.  de  Thulstrup. 

"A  novel  tale  concerning  itself  in  part  with  the  great  struggle  in 
the  two  Carolinas,  but  chiefly  with  the  adventures  therein  of  two 
gentlemen  who  loved  one  and  the  same  lady. 

A  strong,  masculine  and  persuasive  story. 
A  MODERN  MADONNA.     By  Caroline  Abbot  Stanley. 

A  stoi-y  of  American  life,  founded  on  facts  as  they  existed  some 
years  ago  in  the  District  of  Columbia.  The  theme  is  the  maternal 
love  and  splendid  courage  of  a  woman. 


Grosset  &  Dunlap,  526  West  26th  St.,  New  York 


A  FEW  OF 

GROSSET  &   DUNLAP'S 
Great  Books  at  Little  Prices 

WHEN  A  MAN  MARRIES.  By  Mary  Roberts  Rinehart! 
Illustrated  by  Harrison  Fisher  and  Mayo  Bunker. 

A  young  artist,  whose  wife  had  recently  divorced  him,  finds  that 
a  visit  is  due  from  his  Aunt  Selina,  an  elderly  lady  having  ideas 
about  things  quite  apart  from  the  Bohemian  set  in  which  her 
nephew  is  a  shining  light.  The  way  in  which  matters  are  tempo- 
rarily adjusted  forms  the  motif  of  the  story. 

A  farcical  extravaganza,  dramatized  under  the  title  of  "Seven  Davs" 

THE  FASHIONABLE  ADVENTURES  OF  JOSHUA 
CRAIG.  By  David  Graham  Phillips.  Illustrated. 
A  young  westerner,  uncouth  and  unconventional,  appears  in 
political  and  social  life  in  Washington.  He  attains  power  in  poli- 
tics, and  a  young  woman  of  the  exclusive  set  becomes  his  wife,  un- 
dertaking his  education  in  social  amenities. 

"  DOC."  GORDON.  By  Mary  E.  Wilkins-Freeman.  Illus- 
trated by  Frank  T.  Merrill. 
Against  the  familiar  background  of  American  town  life,  the 
author  portrays  a  group  of  people  strangely  involved  in  a  mystery. 
"Doc."  Gordon,  the  one  physician  of  the  place,  Dr.  Elliot,  his 
assistant,  a  beautiful  woman  and  her  altogether  charming  daughter 
are  all  involved  in  the  plot.     A  novel  of  great  interest. 

HOLY  ORDERS.     By  Marie  Corelli. 

A  dramatic  story,  in  which  is  pictured  a  clergyman  in  touch  with 
society  people,  stage  favorites,  simple  village  folk,  powerful  finan- 
ciers and  others,  each  presenting  vital  problems  to  this  man  "in 
holy  orders" — problems  that  we  are  now  struggling  with  in  America. 
KATRINE.     By  Elinor  Macartney  Lane.   With  frontispiece. 

Katrine,  the  heroine  of  this  story,  is  a  lovely  Irish  girl,  of  lowly 
birth,  but  gifted  with  a  beautiful  voice. 

The  narrative  is  based  on  the  facts  of  an  actual  singer's  career, 
and  the  viewpoint  throughout  is  a  most  exalted  one. 

THE    FORTUNES    OF  FIFI.    By  Molly  Elliot  SeawelL 
Illustrated  by  T.  de  Thulstrup. 
A  story  of  life  in  France  at  the  time  of  the  first  Napoleon.    Fifi, 
a  glad,  mad  little  actress  of  eighteen,  is  the  star  performer  in  a  third 
rate  Parisian  theatre.    A  story  as  dainty  as  a  Watteau  painting. 

SHE  THAT  HESITATES.  By  Harris  Dickson.  Illus- 
trated by  C.  W.  Relyea. 

The  scene  of  this  dashing  romance  shifts  from  Dresden  to  St. 
Petersburg  in  the  reign  of  Peter  the  Great,  and  then  to  New  Orleans. 

The  hero  is  a  French  Soldier  of  Fortune,  and  the  princess,  who 
hesitates— but  you  must  read  the  story  to  know  how  she  that  hesitates 
may  be  lost  and  yet  saved. 

Grosset  &  Dunlap,  526  West  26th  St.,  New  York 


BRILLIANT  AND  SPIRITED  NOVELS 

AGNES  AND  EGERTON   CASTLE 

Handsomely  bound  in  cloth.     Price,  75  cents  per  volume,  postpaid. 

*  i  ■ 

THE  PRIDE  OF  JENNICO.    Being  a  Memoir  of  Captain  Basil 
Jennico. 

u  What  separates  it  from  most  books  of  its  class  is  its  distinction 
of  manner,  its  unusual  gra.ce  of  diction,  its  delicacy  of  touch,  and  the 
fervent  charm  of  its  love  passages.  It  is  a  very  attractive  piece  of 
romantic  fiction  relying  for  its  effect  upon  character  rather  than  inci- 
dent, and  upon  vivid  dramatic  presentation.' ' — The  Dial.  "  A  stirring, 
brilliant  and  dashing  story."—  The  Oatlook. 

THE  SECRET  ORCHARD.   Illustrated  by  Charles  D.  Williams. 

The  "  Secret  Orchard  "  is  set  in  the  midst  of  the  ultra  modern  society. 
The  scene  is  in  Paris,  but  most  of  the  characters  are  English  speak- 
ing. The  story  was  dramatized  in  London,  and  in  it  the  Kendalls 
scored  a  great  theatrical  success. 

"  Artfully  contrived  and  full  of  romantic  charm  *  *  *  it  pos- 
sesses ingenuity  of  incident,  a  figurative  designation  of  the  unhal- 
lowed scenes  in  which  unlicensed  love  accomplishes  and  wrecks  fa^h 
and  happiness." — Athenaeum. 

YOUNG  APRIL.    With  illustrations  by  A.  B.  Wenzell. 

"It  is  everything  that  a  good  romance  should  be,  and  it  carries 
about  it  an  air  of  distinction  both  rare  and  delightful." — Chicago 
Tribune.  "  With  regret  one  turns  to  the  last  page  of  this  delightful 
novel,  so  delicate  in  its  romance,  so  brilliant  in  its  episodes,  so  spark- 
ling in  its  art,  and  so  exquisite  in  its  diction." — Worcester  Spy. 

FLOWER  O'  THE  ORANGE.    With  frontispiece. 

We  have  learned  to  expect  from  these  fertile  authors  novels  grace- 
ful in  form,  brisk  in  movement,  and  romantic  in  conception.  This 
carries  the  reader  back  to  the  days  of  the  bewigged  and  beruffled 
gallants  of  the  seventeenth  century  and  tells  him  of  feats  of  arms  and 
adventures  in  love  as  thrilling  and  picturesque,  yet  delicate,  as  the 
utmost  seeker  of  romance  mav  ask. 

MYJMERRY  ROCKHURST.    Illustrated  by  Arthur  E.  Becher. 

In  the  eight  stories  of  a  courtier  of  King  Charles  Second,  which  are 
here  gathered  together,  the  Castles  are  at  their  best,  reviving  all  the 
fragrant  charm  of  those  books,  like  The  Pride  of  Jennico,  in  which 
they  first  showed  an  instinct,  amounting  to  genius,  for  sunny  romances. 
The  book  is  absorbing  *  *  *  and  is  as  spontaneous  in  feehng  as  it  is 
artistic  in  execution." — New  York  Tribune. 

GROSSET  &  DUNLAP,  Publishers,         -         -         New  York 


THE  MASTERLY  AND  REALISTIC  NOVELS  OF 

FRANK  NORRIS 

Handsomely  bound  in  doth.     Price,  75  cents  per  volume,  postpaid. 

— — — — — — ^ _ — — _ ___ ^_ ) 

THE  OCTOPUS.    A  Story  of  Calif ornia 

Mr.  Norris  conceived  the  ambitious  idea  of  writing  a  trilogy  of 
novels  which,  taken  together,  shall  symbolize  American  life  as  a 
whole,  with  all  its  hopes  and  aspirations  and  its  tendencies,  through- 
out the  length  and  breadth  of  the  continent.  And  for  the  central 
symbol  he  has  taken  wheat,  as  being  quite  literally  the  ultimate 
source  of  American  power  and  prosperity.  The  Octopus  is  a  story  of 
wheat  raising  and  railroad  greed  in  California.  It  immediately  made 
a  place  for  itself. 

It  is  full  of  enthusiasm  and  poetry  and  conscious  strength.     One 
cannot  read  it  without  a  responsive  thrill  of  sympathy  for  the  earnest- 
ness, the  breadth  of  purpose,  the  verbal  power  of  the  man. 
THE  PIT.    A  Story  of  Cnica* o. 

This  powerful  novel  is  the  fictitious  narrative  of  a  deal  in  the  Chi- 
cago wheat  pit  and  holds  the  reader  from  the  beginning.  Ina  masterly 
way  the  author  has  grasped  the  essential  spirit  of  the  great  city  by  the 
lakes.  The  social  existence,  the  gambling  in  stocks  and  produce,  the 
vjharact eristic  life  in  Chicago,  form  a  background  for  an  exceedingly 
vigorous  and  human  tale  of  modern  life  and  love. 

A  MAN'S  WOMAN. 

A  story  which  has  for  a  heroine  a  girl  decidedly  out  of  the  ordinary 
run  of  fiction.  It  is  most  dramatic,  containing  some  tremendous  pic- 
tures of  the  daring  of  the  men  who  are  trying  to  reach  the  Pole  *  *  * 
but  it  is  at  the  same  time  essentially  a  woman's  book,  and  the  story 
works  itself  out  in  the  solution  of  a  difficulty  that  is  continually  pre- 
sented in  real  life — the  wife's  attitude  in  relation  to  her  husband  when 
both  have  well-defined  careers. 

McTEAGUE.    A  Story  of  San  Francisco. 

"  Since  Bret  Harte  and  the  Forty-niner  no  one  has  written  of  Cali- 
fornia life  with  the  vigor  and  accuracy  of  Mr.  Norris.  His  '  McTeague" 
settled  his  right  to  a  place  in  American  literature ;  and  he  has  now 
presented  a  third  novel,  'Blix,'  which  is  in  some  respects  the  finest 
and  likely  to  be  the  most  popular  of  the  three."— -  Washington  Times. 

BLIX. 

"  Frank  Norris  has  written  in  *  Blix  ■  just  what  such  a  woman's  name 
would  imply— a  story  of  a  frank,  fearless  girl  comrade  to  all  men  who 
are  true  and  honest  because  she  is  true  and  honest.  How  she  saved 
the  man  she  fishes  and  picnics  with  in  a  spirit  of  outdoor  platonic  friend- 
ship, makes  a  pleasant  story,  and  a  perfect  contrast  to  the  authors 
•McTeague.'  A  splendid  and  successful  story."—  Washington. 
Times. 

GROSSET  &  DUNLAP,  Publishers,         -         -         New  York 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 

THIS  BOOK  IS  DUE  ON  THE  LAST  DATE 
STAMPED  BELOW 

FEB    4    1916 

JUL  1^1917 

MAY  8   1919 

JUL  S&  1319 

ftpli  jkjiy2s 

MAY  1219*7 

30m-l,'15 

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250711 


